


Trembling Giant

by LilyofAzra



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Genre: Crowley (Good Omens) Is Not Crowley (Supernatural), Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Dean is Michael, Family Fluff, M/M, Sam is Lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2020-07-10 11:10:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19904770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyofAzra/pseuds/LilyofAzra
Summary: Crowley's memories of the Before are scattered. He doesn't particularlly mind, not when he and Aziraphale have moved into a pleasant little cottage in Tadfield. Six years of peace and their respective head offices want to start of the end of everything again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ruby (How High Have You Fallen?)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19411876) by [VeteranKlaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeteranKlaus/pseuds/VeteranKlaus). 
  * Inspired by [Unlikely Places](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162477) by [EclipseWing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclipseWing/pseuds/EclipseWing). 



**Prologue**

In Utah, there was a forest. 

No one remembered when the forest was placed there, neither angel nor demon could recall. And the ones who had been on earth the longest, just have never gotten around to visiting the state it was in. They after all rarely left the little bit of the world they both loved the most. Or perhaps, it was they didn’t want to be away from the other. Thus they weren’t even aware of its general existence. 

Much to the frustration of their godchild, who was attempting to compose a report of the dangers of climate change and human activity on the oldest organisms in the world. Though he really should know better than now to ask his godparents for help on reports, especially history ones. Crowley was shameless trying to convince him to do a report about Alpha Centauri instead, but that didn’t fit the criteria of the report. As humans could not influence Alpha Centauri yet nor was it alive.

So far, Adam Young had found out a few simple facts about this forest. Such as the realization that it was an odd forest, one of the oddest. 

There were over forty seven thousand quaking aspens in this forest, which, in reality, was a  _ single _ living organism. After all, the trees weren’t separate individuals, they belong to a single root system, the oldest in fact, that expanded over a hundred acres. One godfather commented that he wouldn’t mind seeing it at some point. The other did love plants, no matter how much he protested the affection.

The Pando, the Trembling Giant, great titles for such a plant. But it has another. For all these facts, Adam did not know the greatest secret of this wood. Deep and deeper, held in the roots the heart of the plant itself is a glowing essence. A grace so bright and so old that it was hidden on the world before an apple even came to being. 

In fact, as if amused by the notion of such a thing, one of the trees at the very heart of Pando, grew a single apple. A fruit the tree had no business producing, after all it grew from sprouts from the root system. But the Universe had a sense of humor and thus an apple grew. It was small at the moment, too small to really even see, and it was waiting. For one single instant to set in motion a series of events that neither Adam nor his god parents were really prepare for. But most of all, it was the start of a story.

A story of heaven and a story of hell.

A story of four archangels once again roaming the earth, of four brothers reuniting again.

A story of Raphael, lost and forgotten. Long since assumed dead by both parties, but no one knows how he died. Though he didn’t. He in fact liked to claim he merely sauntered vaguely downwards that he hadn’t really meant to fall. 

But most of all, a story about Crowley and Aziraphale. 

  
  
  



	2. Alpha Centauri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley doesn't remember much. Questions, Healing, and Falling. But when he looked at the stars, he could almost remember them. Remember what he had created. Who he had been. More than anything, he wanted to share it with Aziraphale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am pleasantly surprised by the large positive response I've recieved. Thank you so much for all your comments and kudos. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you did the prologue.

**Chapter 1**

Crowley was odd as demons went. In the intervening years, between he swooping in and rescuing his angel, he had a gift. A gift he wondered at as he sat beside a child, a black cloth over his eyes, pretending to be a blind beggar. The child wept silent tears, formed bruised and bent. Before he even realized what he was doing, Crowley put a hand on the child.

The bruises disappeared before his eyes.

Crowley stared at his hand. His vision flickered for a moment as a shattered memory from Before slipped into his mind.

“Why can I heal if there are none who are injured?” He had asked, the angel who wasn’t Crowley yet. His first question amongst all the others. The angel who only asked questions. This was the start of them. He had felt a hand on his shoulder, and the presence was altogether too much, both wonderful and terrible, but most of all filled with so much Love that he was always overwhelmed. It was Her. He found himself kneeling.

“My child, wait, have faith in Me. Your purpose is yet to come.”

It hadn’t been an answer. He hadn’t understood. He had gone to his elder brother with his questions. His stars floating in the sky, beautiful constellation that pale in comparison to the brightness of his brother’s grace and his pure white wings. His own wings mimicked the galaxies he would work to craft an array of blues, silvers, purples and pinks. 

All the stars and galaxies had been burned from his wings until only the horrible dark of the abyss remained. Pitch black wings that presented the void of all he lost. Or thought he did. For all that his once angelic grace was gone, he had the scattered flickers of his gift. 

Demons weren’t supposed to be able to heal. 

‘Why?’ He wondered through the years, but he had long since given up on getting answers from Her or even pleasing his head office.

No instead, as he watched his angel, the one who had been placed on earth to counter him or as punishment for the angel losing his flaming sword. It was just the two of them really. Crowley didn’t count the lower demons or even when some of the other Fallen came up. None of them ever really stayed. No, it was just him and his angel, watching the humans grow. Tempting, healing, and saving them. Listening to their music, like nothing he had ever heard, or eating their food. It was amazing what they would make. 

* * *

**1670**

“Sir.” Another child that he had healed put a hand on his shoulder, their voice quiet. But maybe he could give Aziraphale credit for it again. “Are you alright?”

“No.” He said honestly. He needed to stop doing this. He was a  _ demon _ . Not when he could remember was his grace being ripped from him. Every time he did this, the memory resurge. All he ever did was ask some questions to Her. 

Why create harm? Why have suffering? Why create them if She would let dissent happen? Why cast out his brother?

Crowley remembered the questions. When he had forgotten his own name, forgotten who he was. Could only barely remember the three others who were his brothers, all older than him. But it didn’t matter now. 

“What’s your name boy?” Crowley ended up asking.

“Fergus, sir. What’s yours?”

“Crowley.” Taking off his glasses, Crowley looked at the child with serpent eyes. The kid didn’t flinch. 

The kid followed him. No matter how Crowley tried to shoo the other away, he found the kid dodging his footsteps. Eventually he sort of adopted the kid as a sort of apprentice, teaching him the importance of his own survival above all else. 

The kid grew up. Sharp witted and clever, clearly managing on his own and headed for the darker aspects of life. One of those bargains were going to cost him. He knew where he was headed. Crowley wasn’t sure how he felt about that. By all accounts, he did his job perfectly. It didn’t settle well with him. He rather just cause harmless chaos. 

Within a night, he simply vanished from the teen’s life. A sense that he should go to Italy and let Aziraphale tempt him to some pasta dish or another. They could try out that new vintage of wine. 

Crowley had to agree, as he spun his fork in a dish and sipped wine with his angel. The pasta was  _ good. _ Oh what wonders these mortals created. Crowley was unaware of the impression he left on the child, nor in a seventy years time of the lower demon who had taken his name. After all, in Hells’ records he was still called Crawly or known as the serpent. His name the old runic marking, pre-dating any human language. 

* * *

Adam’s next report  _ was _ on Alpha Centauri.

“We should go.” Crowley half coed in delight, as he placed a plate of apples in front of Adam and snatched the beginnings of an essay from him. Their thirteen year old godson had taken a liking to the small cottage that he and Aziraphale had purchase. There was a large garden that surrounded the cottage with great leafy plants that trembled when Crowley walked by and when Aziraphale strolled along the garden they tilted towards him and not the son. 

“To Alpha Centauri?” Aziraphale asked, sitting across from the teenager with a book in his lap and hot cocoa on the table. 

“Yes.” Then because Crowley had nothing to hide, he admitted. “I made it.”

“They’re the closest stars besides the sun to the Earth.” Adam added, almost sounding like he was considering it. Crowley dearly hope his godson would want to go. Alpha Centauri C would be closer in orbit to AB and he wanted to show the third star to both Aziraphale and Adam. The humans hadn’t quite spotted it yet, so it would be fun for Adam to have in his paper. It wasn’t like Crowley was a fan of Nasa. He was  _ obsessed.  _

“You never said you made it, dear.” Aziraphale closed his book, blue grey eyes focused on him. 

“I think I was a star smith, Before.” Crowley admitted, while there were still large gaps in his memory. Such as what his name as an angel had been, he could recall most of what he had made. He never forgot the Falling. For the questions he asked. All of that, it didn’t matter now. Heaven or Hell, that didn’t matter. They were on their own side now. A demon, an angel, and a former Anti-Christ. It felt a lot like a family. 

“Before you sauntered vaguely downwards?” Aziraphale teased, a small smile on his face. Crowley found himself smiling in return. Every day he spent in Aziraphale’s company without worrying about being found out felt like bliss. It made him forget, for just a moment that he had been cast out. 

“Can we bring Pepper, Brian, and Wensleydale?” Adam asked. His friendship with those three had been cemented when they stopped an armageddon together. 

“I don’t see why not.” Aziraphale smiled. “It would be a quiet lovely venture. We could take the Bentley.”

“Not my Bentley.” Crowley protested without any heat. “You’ll remodel it again.” 

Neither Pepper, Brian, nor Wensleydale could make. Not when Crowley estimated it would take a lot longer to go in his bentley than it would for Aziraphale, Adam and himself to teleport there. Adam’s mother was watching Dog for him for the day. 

They stood on the eternal twilight location on Proxima Centauri b, the small exoplanet that was frequently bombarded with solar winds from the Alpha Centauri C. One side of the planet always faced the small red drawf star. Both Aziraphale’s and his wings were out, acting to shield Adam between two of them. Adam held their hands just in case. A wind swirled around them, just as light streamed over the mountains, all golden and lavender which blended in seamless with the dark purples and blues. 

Faint memories of star song echoed in his mind. 

“They haven’t discovered it yet.” Crowley added, standing in the sunset that would last longer than a day.

“The planet or the star?” Aziraphale asked, one white wing brushing against Crowley’s black one. He wondered if Aziraphale had been around in the earlier days, had listened to the stars sing.

“Both.” 

They stood there for a moment, the three of them drinking in the sight of golden light on alien mountains, a great canyon dipped beneath them. In the distance two bright stars shone in the evening sky.

“And those,” Crowley pointed, leaning in towards both Adam and Aziraphale, “are Alpha Centauri A and B.” 

“You made them?” Adam asked, amazement in his voice.

“Yep.” Crowley drawled, a smile on his face. Recently, he’s been able to deal with his scattered memories better. Funny, how for so long, he could only really remember the pain and the questions. Now, now, he could remember what he created. 

“Thank you, dear.” Aziraphale put a hand over his, reaching past Adam. 

“Let’s go to see Alpha Centauri.” Adam put an arm around either godparent, careful to avoid their wings. 

“Yes.” Both he and Aziraphale moved through space with their wings, their movements complete synchronized. They hovered in space, far enough away to see the three planets that orbited the dual star system, and the two bright stars. Forever stuck in a dance around each other.

As their light washed over Crowley, Adam, and Aziraphale, the fragmented pieces of Crowley’s grace  _ responded.  _ Calling back to the dual star system, like they were long lost friends.

Alpha Centauri replied, a song carried by the light, washing the three of them in tales of solar flares, the pull of planets around them, and the lights of distant stars. Of how happy they were that he was back and why did he not visit. They sung their love for him, in waves of light and in dancing sunspots.

Together, Aziraphale, Crowely and Adam simply basked in the warmth of Alpha Centauri and listened. 

“Crowley, dear, we must go.” Aziraphale brushed a wing around his, a gentle touch. He couldn’t help but to return the gesture. These touches still felt so novel, no matter that they had been together for two years now. Still, the touch was a reminder that they couldn’t maintain a forcefield around Adam forever. 

“See you later, Alpha Centauri.” Crowley gave a little bit of cosmic power within him radiated out wards sending his message. He put a hand on Adam’s shoulder, the boy had been silent as they gazed down at the dual stars, and nodded towards Aziraphale.

“ _ We’ve missed you,-”  _ The light of Alpha Centauri shone on them, and Crowley waved. 

Together they flapped their wings, missing the last of Alpha Centauri’s response. A name in the star song of Alpha Centauri, taking four years to reach Earth. A name half song half shouted in the star’s light. 

_ Raphael. _

  
  



	3. Amulet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean denied it. There was no such thing as angels. The dreams, the nightmares, they just couldn't be true. It was all just some odd fantasy. It didn't make sense. But the amulet on his neck pulse with a promise and a memory. A strength that he refused. As long as he was Dean, everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's thoughts on the amulet over the years until a cage opens. In line with Season 4/5 of Supernatural. Please let me know what you think.

Dean swirled his amulet, the one that Sam gave him so long ago. He could still feel it pulsing with _his_ grace. He knew, he supposed, before he went to Hell. But it hadn’t clicked, because he didn’t believe it was possible. He couldn’t be. There was no way. It was just some odd recurring dream. 

The memories came all the same.

Memories of long ago, of being the First. Like it was some other life, not his. He was Dean. He had to be Dean. Because to acknowledge what he was...was far too much. He had failed so many and so much. He fucked up in that other life.

He was made for justice, for protection. To help guide his three younger siblings. For a while it was just the four of them and their Parent. Those memories felt like a dream, idealistic nonsense that he could never believe.

No, the reality would always sink in.

He had failed.

All three of them, one after another. He couldn’t save them. 

His first brother started to question, started to protested. He couldn’t stop him, couldn’t convince him to just _let it go._ His sibling refused. He had to be stopped. Cast down. He locked him in the depths of a pit at his Parent’s commanded. He listened. He obeyed. His Parent left, disappeared, no longer answered his calls. He despaired. 

His second brother fled. No word, no note. Just there one day and gone the next. Left Heaven, and he hadn’t the heart to go after him. Afraid of being spurned, of being hated. He gave him space. Maybe he’ll come back on his own. 

He never did.

The last brother, his third the youngest amongst them, he failed so completely. The third brother died. He who had dragged the three of them through the empty places. Made them close all of their hundreds of eyes, just to see. Of the four of them, their youngest brother was an artist without measure. Making binary stars, crafting nebula after nebula. All of it to fill the empty dark spaces. To give hope, when creation thought itself surrounded by darkness. He even spur the three of them into making stars as well. But none could match him in his mastery of galaxies. Nor in the last gift he was given. The ability to heal. The worse he had ever done was ask a question. 

The loneliness only built from there. He was left in charge of the entire host, all on his own, with no one to tell him if he was doing right or wrong. He read the great plan. It was Written for him to fight his brother once more. A final battle, to be decisive who would rule. Only one of them would come out alive.

He hadn’t wanted to fight it. 

A child was to be born. His brother’s child, meant to be born to bring the end. He didn’t want to fight. He couldn’t, not again. Instead he picked a few angels to replace him, to lead the Host. He couldn’t go against the Plan, but he didn’t have to participate in it. He couldn’t bear to feel the death of a brother. Not again. 

Putting everything in order, he left. Descending to earth, and moving everything to a small amulet, knowing it would find its way to him again. He left and picked the woman he knew would eventually bare his brother’s vessel. 

After that, he became Dean. Forgetting everything else, besides the fact that his brothers, his brother, were the most important thing in the world. Dean who would have odd dreams, dreams because they couldn’t be real. There were no angels. 

There was a moment. When Atlantis was found, when the Kraken appear, that he thought about breaking the amulet. A moment later, it had resolved itself. Everything calmed down and the world forgot, but Dean remembered. He shouldn’t have. Dean wasn’t the type who should remember. 

Remembered the almost end, remembered the trumpet going, all the while knowing it _wasn’t_ Gabriel who called.

Eventually, he forgot again. He was Dean. The man who was worried about his younger brother heading to Stanford and his father going on hunts. That was all it was. He hunted, he saved people. There was always those he couldn’t save. If he couldn’t save his brother, he would be damned. 

Or was that to save his brother, he would let himself be damned. So he did.

He gone to Hell. 

To save Sam, to save his brother, knowing it might damn the world. He gave Sam his amulet, wanting to go only as a human. The part of him that thrumbed above his heart. Always whispering, _not yet, not yet._

An angel pulled him out. One he didn’t know, one he hadn’t meant. His hand burned into his mortal flesh, forever marking him. The risks that Castiel would take, the way he answered his calls. No one had ever answered his prayers before. He watched the angel grow, questioned. The silly way he had no clue how to interact with the human world. 

The angel made him smile. 

He was surprised by Anna, by the story of how she ripped out her own grace. A pang thudded in his heart, or in the amulet above it. A slow realization seeped into his head. Dean placed a hand over the amulet, wondering if now was the time to release it.

“ _Not yet.”_ It pulsed back.

It was better for him to stay as Dean Winchester. Not anything else. He had replacements arrange for that. Dean stared at Sam. His brother struggling between wanting to do what was right, to help people no matter the cost. Dean watched worried that Sam would lose himself, would take that path, the one where he wouldn’t see his brother. He couldn’t do it. Not again. He didn’t want to lose him. 

One day, heaven took his angel away again. The look of wonder and doubt disappeared. Dean didn’t know what they did to him. Didn’t know what had become of heaven. Some part of him felt regret. A part of him, he ignored. He wasn’t that person. He couldn’t be. It was all just an odd dream. 

All his worried about Sam, about his brother going down a dark path again. Falling falling into the burning dark.

He couldn’t lose his brother again. 

“ _Not yet.”_ It whispered back to him.

He waited, even when the last seal broke, and he _felt_ Lucifer. Knowing if he hesitated a moment more, it would be too late. But he knew it would be okay. A part of him still held faith in his brother. In both of them. 

Then they were on the plane. If he focused, he could particularly feel Lucifer's wings around him, half embracing him. Sam at his side, acting confused. Dean wondered if now would be a good time, but perhaps Sam needed a little bit to sort out his own memories. Despite their current issues, at least Sam wasn’t PO’d at him. Dean knew without a doubt that the anger that Lucifer held for Michael might crush them both.

Dean wanted to remain _Dean_ , wanted to hold onto the relationship of two of them had. He didn’t want to lose Sam. He couldn’t become who he was. Sam couldn’t know, not yet. It would end everything. 

Sam needed time.

After all, Dean had not quite years to deal with his memories of the past. His brother needed to figure out what he wanted. Dean would give him all the time he needed, as long as he didn’t send him away. He couldn’t deal with the separation, not when it felt like he had lost his brother for eons. Even if it meant, Bobby would be stuck in that chair.

Castiel asked for it. Dean met Cas eyes. The expression in his pleading as he admitted to wanting to find their Parent. 

“Cas.” He put a hand on the other’s shoulder and nodded towards Sam and Bobby. “Let’s talk.”

Dean guided the angel out of the room, knowing what he might have suggested would changed everything, but- The angel had a point he had forsaken all he knew. Just for him, for them to try and stop this. Dean wasn’t sure if he had wanted to succeed. He had his brother back, even if he didn’t know. Now? Now his brother was whole once more. 

“Cas.” Dean said as they took a step into the little garden outside of the hospital. “I can’t give this to you.”

Dean took the amulet off, swirling it.

“Dean. It’s the only thing that will help me find Him.”

“It won’t.” Then Dean focused, letting just a shimmer of what was held within the amulet out. A grace, something so large, so expansive, was tucked away in something tiny. He felt it, warmth flooding over him. The part of himself that he refused to claim. Not till he knew which way Sam would go. 

Castiel looked at him with wide eyes. Shocked and hurt. One word half whispered as he looked at Dean. His name. His first name. 

“ _Michael.”_

  
  



	4. Almost Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has made mistakes. He knew that. He was only human. He had to be human. He was Sam. He wasn't anybody else. He couldn't be. But something was released from that cage. And he had never felt so complete nor so angry. He remembered, but he didn't want to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the huge response you have all given. I greatly appericate all the comments and kudos. Please let me know what you think about this chapter. Sam was a bit challenging to write.

Sam could taste it. In every sip he had, every time he indulged. Beyond the taint, the horrible taste of sulfur, he could feel it. A sliver of himself that they had all been exposed to, of his power. The more he took from them, the more he could claim back. Just minute fragments of what once was _his._ It was wrong. He knew that. The disappointed look in Dean’s eyes and the hunger for more. He was missing something. He just couldn’t remember what it was. 

He was using his gifts to save people, to help them. Over and over again he told himself this. A part of him loved tormenting the lower demons, the ones that were once humans, once horrible terrible humans. The worst of the lot. Who else but him could do this? 

It could only be him.

Ruby told him. Lilith told him. As the light from the opening shone into him, flooded into him. Only then did he truly understand. The few that he told were dead. He’d given the task to the highest of the low. A back up more than anything else.

His initial plan must of failed.

No. Not his. He couldn’t be. He wasn’t that being. He was _Sam._ He wasn’t a monster. Not when Dean was holding onto his shirt, trying to save him. They couldn’t be here. Without conscious thought, they were suddenly some place else. A plane, going high naturally, as he tried to rein in the need he felt to wrap them in his wings.

Not his wings, because he wasn’t _him._ He denied it. Denied it with his whole being. He had already fallen so far. The thought triggered a deeper memory. The blazing trail from the highest point in heaven, the first to fall into the pit. All his brothers looking on and he knew he had fallen as low as he could go. 

‘I’m not _him.’_ Sam denied, over and over in his head. His first plan had fallen through. Had they not been able to create the child? 

‘That isn’t what I want.’ Sam didn’t know what happened to plan A, but he wouldn’t let plan B go through. He couldn’t. He wanted to save people. Not end everything. Not anymore, not when Dean just seemed glad that he was alive. Instead he focused on tucking away every bit of himself that wasn’t Sam Winchester away. All of it, all of what he had been, years of agony, of suffering, of torment. He tucked it all away. He didn’t want it. All he wanted to be was Dean’s brother at the moment. 

So he pretended that he was. Even when the demons came. Or the odd look Meg was giving him. Half hopeful that he wasn’t Sam Winchester. Sam acted obvious, pushing down more and more who he once was. Bobby was stabbed. Had done it to himself, while Sam fought with his identity.

He could have stopped it. 

He could, but by accepting who he was. Would it change him? Would Dean considered him a monster again? He didn’t want to be involved in Armageddon. He wasn’t going to just fulfill a role that they said he was destined to play. Both parts of him agreed to that. 

They stole his lungs away. The angels. Sam wanted to laugh. For all that they were supposed to be guardian warriors, they were as vicious as the demons. He thought about accepting it. The grace that shimmered in the deepest parts of his soul. 

Castiel appeared, back from the dead, saving both himself and Dean. He saw the way that Dean looked at the angel. The angel put his hand on his chest and Sam felt disoriented for a moment, sinking to the ground. Trying to sort out the part of him that screamed as if it was being ripped away all over again, only for it to boomerang back. Sealing it into his bones that he was what he feared himself to be. 

Sam stared at Bobby in the hospital. Not knowing what to do. He couldn’t heal him, even if he accepted the cold presence of grace. It was never his gift. 

No. It was his brother’s. The youngest of the four of them. Even if Sam would deny who he was. He would never deny what his siblings had meant to him. Nor the realization that it was _he_ who had caused his sibling death. Even if he wasn’t the one who did it. It was his fault. 

He had felt it. 

His brother had died. He was stuck in the cage. Tossed away, locked away. Trapped forever more until he was destined to break out. Even the other Fallen couldn’t pry him out. No matter how much Bleezebub tried. Follow the plan. He raged. Anger at the cost of the war. Anger at being locked away. At the humans who crawled the earth. They were monsters too. Willing to kill their own kin. 

But that wasn’t him. 

He cared about people. Even as they were tricked into warring against each other. A ring this time and not a sword. This War didn’t quite feel right. Like the first one had disappeared. It was a weaker construct. Yet the anger remained. The rage he held for what happened. The Great War that was teetering on edge. He was supposed to lead it. To lead their side, and fight against his brother. The one who locked him away.

“I can’t do this.” Sam handed War’s ring back to Dean. “I can’t hunt anymore.”

He didn’t want to leave his brother, but he needed time. Time to figure out who he was. He wanted to be Sam. Sam who at least had a brother who still loved him. He did borrow a car, driving aimlessly as if he could find the answers on this planet.

He drove.

Further west, through rolling plains, filled with gold wheat. He never tired. Not like he did before. Unsure of what he wanted. Stopping only for gas. Not even feeling hungry, but stopping to eat out of habit. Eventually, he made his way to the Grand Canyon. Always wanting to spend more time here, but they were always dragged away from it.

He sat on the edge of one of the canyons. The one away from people, not wanting to be bothered quiet yet. In the distance he could hear the chatter of people. Whereas, if he were only Sam he would not. If he focused he could bring forth other senses. Sense that belong solely to who he was attempting not to be. He wanted to scream. Wanted to shout out his denial, but most of all, he wanted to go back to being Sam. But even Sam wasn’t ever truly happy. 

But Sam at least had Dean. Dean who had gone to hell for him. Even if he was the one who caused Hell. 

And that type of thinking was giving him a headache.

So much so that he wasn’t even aware of the coyotes that chattered with barks and howls as twilight approached. Sam was slowly losing his sense of time. Feeling distant from even himself, not fully connected with his own body.

“Are you okay, mister?” A teen offered him a water bottle. Golden curls framing his face, and sky blue eyes watching him worriedly. There was something familiar about the other. “You should not sit here for too long. It’ll be cold when it gets darker.”

Sam blinked. How had this kid snuck up on him? Especially if he wasn’t quite human. He numbly took the water bowl. The kid had to be late highschool or early college. But some sense was telling him that the other was almost seventeen.

“I said I wouldn’t talk to you again.” The boy continued, plopping down next to him. His voice unmistakable British. Probably a tourist. “And my guardians haven’t sensed you yet. Though I don’t think Uncle Anthony is really trying. He is busy being curled up with Dog and Uncle Zira.”

Sam had no clue what the kid was talking about.

“But I wanted to know what you were doing. Up here and all.” His feet swung over the ledge. Sam half wanted to tell him he was too close, that he could fall off if he wasn’t careful.

“Watching the Grand Canyon.” Sam answered. Not commenting on the kid risking himself like this. Sam could catch him, could stop the boy’s descent mid way if he wanted. 

“It is quite grand. I had wanted to see it. I’ve been thinking about what it was I wanted to do. Was thinking about becoming an environmentalist or a humanitarian. Try and help save the planet.” The kid continued chattering, gazing up at the stars. “Or perhaps a teacher.”

Then the teen turned and looked at him. Blue eyes piercing directly at him, as if he could see through him. As if he _knew_. Knew when Sam had fooled everyone else, even his own brother. But this kid for some reason, had an odd sort of air about him. As if Sam should know who he was. But for the life of him. He couldn’t remember ever meeting him. Not in this life or his previous one. 

“What is it you want to do?”

Sam stared. The chaos of his twisted cold grace wrapped around him, flaring for a moment, but settling down a second later. As if it recognized something in the boy.

For all the kid’s polite manner, Sam was thrown off by the threat in the words.

“I,”he paused the kid didn’t feel angelic, but the way he was talking. It threw him off. “I don’t know.”

“I meant what I said then,” There was something about the way he said it. As if Sam should know. But he didn’t. He never meant the kid before. The kid met his eyes, unflinching, “I love this world.” 

For all that the teen gave him a boyish grin, and his eyes sparkled in the twilight, he felt the warning in those words. Warning him off the whole planet. And not Sam, not who he pretended to be, but who he once was. Who he denied himself to be. Man, that kid had guts to be threatening the devil himself. 

“Give it a chance." The kid stood, dusting his pants. "If I dither longer my godparents and Dog will worry.” 

He paused for a second, titling his head, before glancing down at the canyon's depths. “He did go through on that favor.”

Sam glanced in the direction the kid was looking, but saw nothing. He was tempted to use his other senses, but refused. He _was_ human. He wanted to be human. 

“What do you mean-” Sam turned back to the other, rising as well. But the kid had vanished. 

Instead he found himself standing on a cliff. A figure he recognized stood across from him. Honey eyes and dark amber hair. The Trickster. His grace flared up without his control, rushing forward in greeting the other. His past self knew the other as well. The other archangel took a step towards him, as if he didn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Calling out Sam’s other name. The one he was denying with all his being.

“Lucifer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam sort of just popped into this chapter all on his own. He's on vacation after all. It had taken time for him to coax his godparents to go with him.


	5. Trickster's Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel spent two thousand years avoiding family drama. Knowing that it would all end in blood, and the last of his siblings dead by the others sword. He would be alone. One way or the other. There was no way he could fight. No way his brothers could ever reconcil either. But then Lucy did nothing. Not a thing. A nudge out of the door and he flew off to the others direction. Hope was a thing with fragile wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a while to write. Especially the ending part. I'm not sure if I'm satsified with it, but I wanted to keep the story going. I may go back and rewrite some of this. Please let me know what you think.

**2000 Years Ago**

“Great job, Gabriel. With that done, the next thing on the plan is…” Uriel trailed off, his eyes on the Great Plan. “The Apocalypse. We’ll start preparing for it immediately.”

Gabriel stilled. No. He wouldn’t do it. He couldn’t watch them rip each other to shreds again. He couldn’t take feeling another of his brothers’ deaths. Would Michael and Lucifer take each other out, leaving him _alone?_ He couldn’t do it. Not again. 

“Well, once again, great job.” Uriel gave him a grin, and vanished with a flutter of his wings, leaving Gabriel alone in his spot watching over the earth. For all that humans warred against one another, they could create. Things Gabriel could never dream of. It made him long for Raphael. The little brother who he taught how to make stars. Whose wings had the appearance of stars that would open to millions of eyes. 

He missed Raphael’s gentle nature and his art. He hadn’t deserved to die in Heaven’s first war. What would he think of the suffering below them, of what the humans became? Would he have tried to heal the world’s wound? 

Gabriel was supposed to be an angel of justice. But where was justice for Raphael? Neither him nor Michael knew who had killed their brother. Gabriel feared it was Lucifer. So far gone in his rage at heaven…

They were going to fight again. 

Humanity would pay the cost this time. Humans that barely had the chance to create, but already they could make so many different things. What else might they do in another thousand years, or two?

Gabriel flew down to earth. He wanted to know more and who better to ask than the principality that had taken position on earth. The one who had lost his flaming sword, one of the few weapons that could kill anything. All the archangel’s had one, once. One day his Parent had given Raphael’s to the guardian of Eden. 

A second later, he stood next to the angel. Who he never actually spoke to before. For all that he was the Messenger, Gabriel had been neglected in his supposed duties. His hair so blonde it might as well be white, with his wings tucked in. The other was sitting at a _table,_ with a scroll unrolled and a half-eaten flour backed something _._ He knew that to influence the human world, he must appear human, but consuming their food. 

“Aziraphael. What are you doing?” Gabriel had never knew an angel to eat human food. But the other angel had been here since the start. Somethings were bound to happen.

“Eating.” The angel answered simply, taking another bite of the morsel. “Would you like to try some? It is really quite good.” 

Gabriel stared at the small pastry, raising one eyebrow. “What is it made of it?”

“Flour, eggs,” the other angel started off. Gabriel nodded, he knew they ate eggs. “And honey.”

“Bee vomit?” Both of his eyebrows rose. Had he heard the other right? “They eat bee vomit?”

“Well, you don’t have to put it that way. It’s really rather sweet.” Aziraphael took another bit of the fluffy dark golden brown cake. 

“Sweet?”

“The bees drink nectar. So it’s concentrated sweetener.” He drizzled some of the honey on top of the cake, then he handed the plate to Gabriel. “Do try a bite?” 

Well he wanted to understand humans better. Gabriel took the plate and tired a small bie.

Warmth.

It was unlike anything he had ever tasted before. Well, it was the first thing he ever tasted. He never ate human food before. The cake itself was still warm. Warm and sweet. There was something oddly comforting about the dish. He wanted to eat the rest of it, but content himself to the slice he was given. 

“It is _good_.” 

“Thief!” A woman’s voice called out from the arena. Gabriel could feel her distress and knew the injustice. Deep in his very being, he would always be able to feel their crimes. 

“Thanks. I’ll take this one.” Gabriel waved at Aziraphael, than disappeared. After stopping the crime, he realized that maybe earth wouldn’t be such a bad place to chill. He shouldn’t loiter near Heaven’s agent, though. He didn’t want Michael to find him. To pull him back into the misery of following a plan he didn’t believe in. He was done with all that. He couldn’t watch Michael begin training again, not with the intent of going after his brother. In an instant he left. 

There were several things that could have happened if he stayed. In fact, if he had stayed. He might have caught the tail end of a conversation that went a bit like this.

“That was odd.” Aziraphale muttered to himself.

“Aziraphale.” A demon saunter into the restaurant. Plopping into the chair opposite of him in such a way it might as well be considered falling. “What are you doing here?”

“Crawly?” Aziraphale nodded at the other. 

“Crowely.” The redhead corrected, before grabbing the rest of the cake and plopping the whole thing in his mouth. 

“That’s mine.” It was good. He loved all the sweet combinations the humans were coming up with. 

“Well I thought I save you from the temptation, Angel.” The Fallen plopped down on the chair across from him, pouring himself a glass of wine. 

“I suppose the thief was your work.” Aziraphale shook his head, but resumed drinking a small glass of wine that he had, and started to roll the scroll back up. His day had way more visitors than it normally did. He never did get that other angel’s name, but all the same. He saw the man’s eyes, which oddly enough were the color of honey, light up with delight. Hopefully, another convert to fine food. 

“Nah. I merely stated that was a nice necklace. I didn’t expect him to take that leaf circlet thing. Really, Humans will do all the work if we let them. They just need a slight nudge. Irritation is contagious.” Crowley snatched the wine glass and took a sip, before putting his feet on the table, leaning back in his chair. 

Gabriel would have recognized something in Crowley. Something that would have made his grace flare out to clutch at the torn shreds of the Fallen angel’s. Or perhaps if he visited Aziraphale with any degree of frequency, he would have meant Hell’s agent on earth. But Gabriel went to great lengths to avoid both of them, wanting to hide from either force. The next time he saw either angel or demon wouldn’t be for a long time. When all the pieces were finally put into place.

* * *

**The Present**

Gabriel opened another candy bar as he flew, the wrappers disappearing before they hit the ground. He needed a plan. His brothers were about to fight again. Whatever had stopped them almost six years ago wasn’t stopping them now. It was going to happen, and he just wanted it done. He was sick of the build up to it. The great plan would happened.

But then it didn’t.

None of the omens that Lucy was supposed to wreck were occuring. The weather patterns kept the same. No storm of rain, nor burning fires. Besides having _felt_ the cage open, the brief flare of Lucy’s grace that would wrap around the earth. He felt nothing. As if a supernova had occurred. Bright and blinding one moment, before it collapsed back into itself, without forming a black hole that would pull everything in. 

So he listened to the demi-god girl that he had taken in. She had found him in his abjected misery, scolding and fierce. Go West. She had said. To where the river has worn the grandest of canyons.

He had gone.

A foolish impulse now. One that would result in him surely dieing. He should have just hide. Hiding was a great plan, one that he had practiced for two thousand years. 

He was not the one that should be standing here. That was Michael’s job. Michael’s duty.

Written in heaven and carried out on earth. 

Gabriel stood across from his brother, after saying his name. Not believing it and wanting to fly off. Then a grace wrapped around his in a frozen embrace. Gabriel had lingered in antarctica once, following the foolish humans who ventured that far. Stun by their determination to visit the coldest of all lands. He stood in the bitter winds of the longest night once. Just to remember what cold was. But still the void between planets was thrice as cold.

Lucifer’s grace was colder still. 

He wanted to weep, because he could still feel the love of his brother beneath the frozen fury of rage that pulsed in the others grace. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning into it. Just for a moment. It had been thousands of years since another angel had even tried to embrace him in such a way. Not even Michael could bring himself to be affectionate with his remaining brother. Spurning them both the comfort after the lost of Raphael and Lucifer. 

Lucifer who stood across from him now in Sam Winchester’s body. Already reunited with his true vessel, but not doing _anything._ There hadn’t been a single omen of dear old Lucy’s rising. Sure he felt the four horsemen active across the field. Different horseman than that of even ten years ago, but always constant, always there. They were the manifestation of an idea. 

Even archangels couldn’t kill an idea. Not for long anyway. 

“I”m n….I don’t want to be him.” Lucifer said in Sam’s voice. His second oldest brother couldn’t lie. Was incapable of the act. It was why he had such a following in the first war. He only spoke the truth. The civil war between angels. Or the first war with hell. It really depended on who you were asking. 

“You don’t want to be yourself?” Gabriel asked slowly, lifting both eyebrows of him. A treacherous hope was seeding in his breast. The first Apocalypse had failed. The original plan. This was merely a plan B. What would have happened anyway. 

“Do you want to be the _Devil_ ?” Sam Winchester spat. And it _was_ Sam Winchester, for all that he carried Lucifer’s grace. 

“What the fuck?” Gabriel stared. His mind unable to reconcile with the situation. Never had he ever thought this was a possibility. 

“I’m Sam Winchester. I always have been.” The words sung with truth, radiated with it. Not just Sam as Lucifer’s vessel, but he was actually Sam.

“How the holy candy did you pull that off, popsicle?” Because Lucy must have sent himself, the part of him that was separated from his grace. He had fallen to earth. It was almost funny. But why? Why did he choose to be human?

“ _I_ didn’t pull anything off.” Sam emphasized pointing to himself. Gabriel was feeling a headache approached and the sinking sensation that the devil was developing an identity complex. 

“So you and Michael, still planning on dancing the Lamba?” He changed the subject. 

“I don’t want to kill anyone.” Lucy turned away from him, glancing towards the few lights in the distance, from campers. Human campers. Lucy gestured towards them. “All I wanted was to save them, to be them.”

“That wasn’t what you said before. Y’know, when you threw your giant temper tantrum and got put into time out.”

“I am _not-”_ Sam’s voice was heated and his grace flared out, but he couldn’t actually voice his denial. He half growled pulling at his hair. “I am not-”

“Alright.” Gabriel hastily agreed. Knowing that his brother could throw a fit that would shake all the stars in the sky. “Alright, you’re Sam Winchester. If you want to be, I’ll take it.” Especially if it meant his brother wasn’t going around wanting to blow everything up. That seed of hope began to sprout. He never thought the devil would take the side of humanity. Never thought Lucy would even try being human. 

“I am Sam.” Sam affirmed. 

“Sure.” He nodded. “And I’m just a trickster.”

It was odd. His brother, right before him, and not wanting to fight. It was more than Gabriel could even hope for. But for all that Sam denied being Lucifer. He also denied that Gabriel was his brother. 

Gabriel was still alone.

“What do you think-” The other paused, carefully breaking the silence. “It would take to stop it?”

“Stop it?”

“Surely, it won’t be so easy as me not taking any action. They’ve wanted this for years.” Sam looked down. Gabriel could feel the other’s grace flickered for a moment, before wrapping back in own himself. So tightly wound that Gabriel could barely feel even a flicker of what was Lucifer.

“Well think of something.” Gabriel moved closer. Each step hesitant as if he was trying to cross a great chasm. “Over some drinks. I’ve got so Bacchus wine that will get even archangels buzz if we let it.” 

“You want to get drunk?” Sam’s face folded in that adorable confused look that had plagued him during that long Tuesday. 

“Well, no time like the present.” Gabriel swung an arm over Sam’s shoulder. This was fine. He wanted to understand what was going through the others head. Was he serious about wanting to stop it? A drunk man was almost always an honest one.

* * *

“It’s all my fault.” Sam half sobbed half hiccuped into his shoulder. Gabriel patted his shoulder gently. Great, a depressed drunk. Gabriel couldn’t even deny it, because it sort of _was._ Well, definitely, but he wasn’t going to push the issue. 

“First Raphael dies and then they just locked me up. No second chances or anything. All the others didn’t need to be cast out as well.”

“Nope.” Gabriel poked Sam. “You aren’t that person right? So stop moping about it. Why don’t you call big bro and get him to remind you?”

“Dean is disappointed in me.” Sam sighed, taking another sip of their third barrel of Bacchus wine.“That and he and Castiel have been making moon eyes at each other. Non stop, for _days_.”

“Dean has the hots for that baby angel.” Gabriel chuckled, carefully redirecting the conversation.

“The UST has been craaazzzy.” Sam held out his hand wide as if to emphasize the size of what he had seen. “Soo crazzy. Neither of them even realizing it.” The last word was said with half a hiccup.

“Call him. Tell him that.” Gabriel edged. His words not slurring nearly as bad as Sam’s. “Do it. Do it.” Nudging the other, he watched with glee as Sam dialed Dean. He could hear the phone dial. Once twice.

“ _Hell-o.”_ Dean’s voice was heard over the phone. 

“Hey Dean,” Sam half hiccuped for a second. Then he turned to Gabriel, eyes wide. 

“Why was I calling him again?”

“Give me.” Gabriel swiped the phone from Sam. “Hey Dean-o!”

“ _What have you done to Sam_?” Dean’s voice was cold. All righteous fury. 

“Pfftt. Nothing. Shared a few drinks is all, but we’re calling about-” 

“Give that back.” Sam leaned across the other. Gabriel caught him before he fell into his lab. In return, Sam took his phone back.

“ _Was that the trickster_?” Dean sounded surprised.

“Yep.” Sam half giggled. “I ran into him and we got some wine. Lots of wine. Bacchus wine.”

“ _Are you_ drunk _?_ ” 

“Hells yes!” Gabriel shouted into the receiver, feeling inordinately proud of himself. It had taken longer than he thought to convince the other to drink with him. Eventually, the two of them had meander their way into dinner, where Sam had ordered a chicken salad. “We even got pie.”

“ _Where are you?”_

Dean ignored him. Though given how times he’s killed the other Winchester, he wasn’t surprised. He would be pretty PO at himself too. Though it wasn’t like Dean remembered that part. In the meantime, he would be keeping his mouth shut. He didn’t want to remind Lucy/Sam about it. Or deal with the headache from his brother’s identity crisis. Really, what he needed was something sweet. Gabriel snapped his fingers for two more pieces of pies, merely teleporting them from the kitchen. Passing the other slice to Sam, he took, enjoying the flavors of butter, cinnamon and apple. 

“Um...Roadkill dinner or something like that. We about twenty miles out of Madison.” Sam took a bit of the pie. He half hummed in delight.

“ _Wisconsin_?” 

“Yeah. They do have good pie.” 

“ _Cas and I are on our way. Stay put_.” 

“Sure.” Sam nodded, stabbing a chunk of apple and eating it. Then grinned, “Tell your boyfriend hi.”  
“ _What boy-_ ” 

Sharing a grin with Gabriel, Sam closed the call. Gabriel stole a bit of his pie, his plate already licked clean.

“That was mine.” Sam hunched over his plate protectively. 

“I got it for you.” Gabriel reached over, trying to grab the plate back. He couldn’t keep his smile off his face. 

“Not sharing.” But Sam was splitting the piece in two anyway, moving half to Gabriel’s plate.

“Thanks.” Gabriel took another bite and considering things. The pleasant buzz in the back of his mind, helping he not to freak out so much. Maybe he could pretend, just for a little while, that they were human siblings. No tantrums that would shake the sky, no collapsing stars taking dozens of angels with them, nothing like what had been so common during that first war. Part of him wondered what it was like to simply _be_ human. Like how Lucifer had become Sam. Would it change his prospective? He thought he had a good handle on humanity after being here for centuries. 

“How are we going to stop it?” Sam broke his revere. 

“The big shabang?” Gabriel asked, raising his eyebrows. Sam nodded. “We could always do nothing again. The first one stopped by itself.” 

“First one?”

“Yeah. Word almost ending? Lots of weird storms and such about six years ago. Someone apparently royal fucked up somewhere and misplaced the Anti-Christ.” Gabriel ticked off his fingers, tone jubilant. He had been prepared for it to end. Everything seemed like it would. Despite how odd Atlantis and aliens were. If he ever meant that kid, Gabriel think he would thank him and tell him he had a great sense of humor. 

“Anti-Christ?” Sam gave him a blank looked. 

“You know…” Would he have to spell it out to him? The other just stared at him.Nope, no clue. “Congrats. It’s a boy!” He snapped his fingers and blue confetti rained down over both of them. Glints of shimmering glitter were caught in Sam’s hair. 

“You can’t be serious.”

“It was _your_ plan.”

“I didn’t think it worked.”

“It did. Kid just said no, from what I understood. I still tune into Angel radio occasionally.” He had then. For the first time in over two thousand years. Because he needed to know if it was going to end or not. He had been stunned when he realized his nephew had just denied his birthright.

“I’m a father?”

“Why can’t remember knocking anybody up? Always wondered how they manage to get the AntiChrist to exist.”

“I was barely out of highschool six years ago. I didn't-” Sam’s cheeks heated. Still acting all so very human.

“Nah. He was eleven when the Showdown was to happen. You’d have been what six or so when he was born.” 

“You’re telling me I have a kid?”

He couldn’t help but poke at how clearly confused his brother was. Desperately wanting to know if Lucy still considered him a sibling or merely some trickster. The mere thought of it hurt, and he didn’t want to ask. But talking about a kid he never seen. That he could do.

“Well, Lucy sure as hell did.” Gabriel snickered at his own pun. “But Sam Winchester not to my knowledge.” 

Sam’s head hit the table with an accompanying growl of frustration. 

“So what do you want Sam? Do you still want your family from your previous life or just Dean?” Why were those words so hard to say? Why couldn’t he just ask if he still considered Gabriel his brother or wanted nothing to do with him. For all that they were sitting in dinner having drinks. But this could be a one time thing. 

Who knew if by tomorrow he would be alone again. Lucy fully denying his existence as an unpleasant reminder of who he once was. Would he even care?

Sam’s head shot up, eyes wide. He stared at Gabriel. Dark eyes almost seeing through him. Past his flippant attitude. Lucy always could see the truth of things. Gabriel squirmed, for a moment. Before reaching for his drink and taking a sip, because he needed to do something.

There was a boom of thunder and both doors to the dinner swung opened. The sound of rain pattering in the night. Both Gabriel and Sam turned their attention to the two in the door way. Dean with Castiel a step behind him. Dean took one look at him. At Sam and at their closeness. His mouth forming a little o and his eyes widening. Gabriel could almost see a light bulb going off over the other’s head. It was his next words that surprised him. Sure, he gave himself away when he met Sam. But there was no way anyone else should know. Not when he wasn’t displaying any grace or showing off his powers. 

Instead, to his shock, he heard Lucy’s perfect human brother speak. 

“Gabriel.”

  



	6. A Brief Meeting of Two Tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley wondered how he let Adam talked him into this road trip and how he let Adam talked him into letting the kid drive his Bentley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little short and I debated adding the next part to this chapter or this next one. I decided the next one.

**A few weeks earlier**

“Oh, look they’ve got a little tea shop.” Aziraphale pointed to the tea stall, a small island surrounded by an orbit of tables and chairs. Overly crowded due to the presence of numerous plugs and the fact that being in an airport, there really was much alternative. 

“It’s over price.” Crowley didn’t bother resisting the earlier temptation of causing issues with the communal wifi. Several of the patrons looked annoyed and were resetting their devices in the desperate hope that if it was turned on and off again it would work. None of them did. Those that held books in their hands held secretly smug expressions when they heard the overall mutterings of despair. Crowley felt a little proud of himself. 

“I am excited.” Adam stared wide eyed at all the people besides the two of them. Dog was held on a leash, wearing a vest of a support animal. Adam had convinced his parents to have dog registered as an emotional support animal and refused to go anywhere without him. “This is my first aeroplane flight. A proper one to America.”

“It is ours as well. Let’s get some tea. Oh, maybe they have cocoa.” Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s elbow as the two of them went to the cart. Glancing back, Crowley confirmed that Adam trailing after them with Dog. He had pulled out that map of his that had random things circled. Even some of the space centers, which Crowley knew that Adam had taken into account just for him. 

“What would you like?” The man at the counter looked bored.

“Coffee as dark as my soul.” Crowley drawled, pushing his glasses up, feeling a little self conscience. 

“He’ll have two creams and a sugar with that.” Aziraphale piped in, sending him a smug little smile. Crowley couldn’t even protest when Aziraphale looked at him that way. A part of him loved it when Aziraphale was smug like that. Or when he smiled. Or just in general. “And I’ll have that cocoa with marshmallows. Adam,” Aziraphale turned to their godchild/nephew, “what would you like dear?”

“Earl grey with honey and cream.” 

She nodded, smiling at the three of them and hummed to herself as she prepared their drinks.

“On vacation?”

“Yes, to America” Aziraphale nodded to the lady, “with our nephew.” Adam gave a little wave. Dog sitting patiently at his feet. 

“You sure? They’ve been having some odd weather. Though they might just be global warming or something.” The woman handed them their drinks. Take out cups and plastic lids.

“It’ll be fine.” Adam grinned as he took his. “I won’t let the world end.”

The woman laughed, as if the idea that a seventeen year old boy could combat nature’s forces.

Crowley knew better. There was more than one reason for why he and Aziraphale moved to a cottage in Tadfield. Even the forces of heaven and hell hesitated when faced with that seventeen year old boy. 

* * *

**Present Day**

The rain fell down in torrents on the dark abandoned country road. Crowley suddenly felt like they were going far too fast for all that they were going only going 65 kmh. Why did he let his ‘nephew’ drive his Bentley? Sure bringing the Bentley to America sounded great. He would never cheat on his beloved car with another lesser vehicle. But how had Adam convinced him to let him drive? Crowley had the distinct feeling that Aziraphale was involved. 

“Be careful Adam, dear.” Aziraphale gripped the back of Crowely seat tightly, obviously as tensed as Crowley. Crowley was afraid of saying anything least he disturb his godson/nephew. 

“It’s fine, Uncle Zira. The rain will calm down.” Adam’s smile was all charm and noncompliance. Though the rain was lessening as soon as Adam said it. “The road is emptied anyway. It’s not like I’ll hit another car.”

“I wish you hadn’t said that.” Crowley groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Adam still held the habit of causing things to happen or knowing that they were about to happen. Crowley couldn’t figure out which one it was yet. Another set of lights flashed on the slippery road. ‘Killer Queen’ swapped onto the radio. Just by looking at it, as it hit a spectacular puddle, the car fishtailed. Dread hit him. His Bentley was going to get scratched. 

“The car is _swerving_.” Aziraphale half panicked as the car hydroplane on the road, hitting the Bentley and the other vehicle spiraling into a ditch. Adam hit the brakes. The Bentley stopped, even if it should have kept going by all accounts of physics. Crowley dashed out of the car, not caring if he got wet, or that he still held Dog’s leash, who trotted after him.

“My Bentley!” Crowley frantically looked over the vehicle for any damage. The bent rim and the busted light repaired themselves. Crowley didn’t know if it was Aziraphale or Adam and he didn’t really care. His Bentley would be okay. 

“Baby!” Another voice echoed.

“Oh dear.” Aziraphale stood next to him an umbrella shielding him from the drizzle. He put a hand on Crowley’s shoulder. Turning him away from the Bentley to the Impala that was teetering on the edge in a ditch. A man was holding on the back of the car as if he could stop it from falling. 

“Are you okay?” Adam approached the stranger, grabbing Dog’s leash from Crowley’s numb fingers. Dog followed at Adam’s heels, silent and curious. He could barely tear his eyes away from the Bentley.

“My car is _dented_.” The driver of the Impala sounded as if the world was crashing down around him.

“Oh,” Aziraphale looped an arm through Crowley’s dragging him towards the other man. Was there a dent on his Bentley? “That may just be the shine in the rain. I’m sure such a small accident didn’t hurt it.”

The man stared at the two of them and not at the Impala that no longer had its previous dent, nor any scratches that might have occurred. That was definitely Aziraphale’s work.

“But are _you_ , alright? Didn’t hit your head?” Aziraphale asked as he dragged Crowley towards the man, who was only illuminated from their headlights. Crowley would rather go back to checking every inch of his Bentley. He was pretty sure he saw a dent. His beautiful Bentley that Adam was never going to drive again. He never once got into a crash with his vehicle. Crowley didn’t consider the whole driving through fire and continuing to drive a flaming vehicle as a crash. 

“I’m fine. But my baby,” The man turned on his heel back to his own car, which was now no where close to teetering on the edge of the ditch and shone as if it was recently waxed. “Is-”

The man stepped forward, eyes wide.

“Looks like everything is fine. We best be on our way.” Crowley deflected, pulling Aziraphale back towards the Bentley.

“Is that a Bentley?” The man asked with all the appropriate reverence that the Bentley deserved. 

“Yes, it is mine.” Crowley answered. Queen was still playing but this time ‘I’m in Love with My Car’ was blaring from the radio. Aziraphale gave him his look. The one that Aziraphale only gazed at Crowley with, especially when he wanted something.

“Nice car.” The man whistled as he looked over it. 

“Nice Impala.” Crowley met the other’s eyes and felt a moment of kinship. He could always tell when another person valued a good car. 

“You seem familiar.” The man took a step closer. “Have we met before?”

“Nah,” Crowley drawled. He would at least remember the car if they ever meant and the last American he had met was Anathema Device, who he also meant in a car accident. Maybe the two were related. Aziraphale would say it was ineffable. “Haven’t been over the pond in years.”

“And, we happen to be a bit lost.” Aziraphale started, the rain had lightened up to a mere drizzle. 

“We are on a road trip, the whole point is to get lost on occasion.” Adam protested. Crowley knew they were hopelessly lost at this point. 

“Let me get this straight.” The guy was staring at the three of them like they were crazy. “You are on a _road trip_ with a _Bentley_?”

“Yes?” Aziraphale glanced between him and Crowley, confusion dripping from his tone.

“I refuse to drive in any other car.” Crowley answered, simply. It was _his_ car. He couldn’t betray her, not when she was such a good and wonderful car. He’s had her since she was new. 

“That I can understand.” The man patted his own car fondly. “How about this? I’m headed to a diner to met my brother. There’s bound to be a motel or a hotel you can stay at.”

“Oh, we should get you a late dinner as an apology.”

“Dude, I’m the one who hydroplaned and hit your car. It’s a miracle there isn’t a dent.” Aziraphale winced at the word miracle. 

“Yes, well. We would appreciate the help.” Aziraphale answered just when Crowley was about say they would be fine on their own. Crowley gave Aziraphale a look. Aziraphale returned it, tilted his head to the other man worry in his eyes. His angel wanted to make sure the man got off safely. Crowley sighed.

“We’ll follow you.”

“Great. I’ll drive!” Adam picked up Dog, who had apparently some business to attend to.

“No.” Crowley directed his nephew to the back seat. 

“The accident wasn’t even my fault.” Adam half-heartedly protested, but went to the back seat anyway. Crowley slide into the driver's seat, Aziraphale taking his place in the front passenger. ‘You’re my best friend’ pumped through the stereo. 

Crowley patted the wheel of the Bentley. 

“You didn’t over do it this time did you, Angel?” 

“I haven’t the slightest of what you are talking about.”

“Oh lord,” Crowley drawled, “heal this car.”

His eye caught Aziraphale’s. The other looked appalled for a moment, then started to snicker. Crowley started to laugh to. The Impala pulled out infront of them. Crowley turned the key in the ignition. The rain had entirely let up by now. 

They followed the car until they hit the town.The Impala flashed it’s blinker to a hotel, but kept going. Crowley waved at the other as he veered off towards a La Quinta. Nice guy. But now that he thought about it, there was something unsettling familiar about him. Maybe he was related to Anathema or something. 

He paused when they were in the parking lot. Scanning for heavenly or helly influences. A flicker bleeped on his radar. Almost not there, as if someone was in hiding. 

“No good.” Crowley shook his head. “Let’s head to the next town.” 

“We can stop to see if they have a map at least. Or are they that near.”

“Hard to pinpoint, but not in the hotel.” 

“We should stay here. It might be interesting.” Adam pipped up from the back.

“I think my Bentley and I have had enough of interesting for one night.” Crowley did not want to stay. As much as the other man piqued his interest, he rather play it safe.

“We should check to see if he was okay.” Aziraphale started to weedled.

“I didn’t see a single four star restaurant as we were driving by.” Crowely grinned, knowing the Angel’s weakness. There was a reason why they stayed in the larger cities. 

“Well, perhaps we should go to the next town.”

“St. Louis isn’t that far.” Adam pulled up his gps on his phone. “I’ll need to call my parents before breakfast.”

“Of course.” Aziraphale smiled, grabbing the phone. Neither of them had thought about using their phone’s GPS, but then neither of them had a phone plan outside of the UK. 

“You had that the whole time?”

“Yes.” Adam grinned, that boyish innocent grin. Crowley was a little proud of the mischief of his godchild. Pure human.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos. I've been thrilled to read and recieve them. I've even been considering writing a prequel of sorts that's focus primarily on Aziraphale and Crowley deciding to move in together. Let me know if anyone would be interested. It might be sometime before this happens though.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three brothers met. A devil, a trickster and a human. Dean thought it sounded like the beginning of a bad joke or one those weird choose your own adventure stories. He still kept thinking about that odd encountered and how much he wanted to ride that Bentley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I’ve been ill recently and meant to get this out much sooner. I’m still not a hundred percent if I’m happy with this chapter so part of it might get reworked later. But in the mean time, read it and enjoy.

The lights from the Bentley reflected in the Impala’s review mirror. Dean couldn’t help but think there was something off about the encounter. For all that the two man had screamed gay married couple with kid, there was just something strange and familiar about them. He put a hand on the amulet, feeling it pulse with a promise.

Something familiar.

From where? From this life, perhaps one of the people he saved? He couldn’t always recall all their faces. Especially if it was from a case he had helped when he was younger. He couldn’t recall any Brits from those cases. So why did they seem familiar.

The accident had happened so quickly. It was rare for Baby to spin out like that. But it did, nearly ending up in a ditch. 

Still, a bentley. Dean would love to give a car like that a spin around. Really a beautiful car. Not that it compared to the trusty Impala, but man, that would be a fun ride. Maybe he’ll run into them in town. They’d probably stay at that hotel. He could always find them tomorrow. They would half to wait.

Sam had called. Drunk, which was funny enough on its own, and with a trickster, but he had called. Maybe his little brother finished with his soul searching, or figured out what he was going to do. He could feel the amulet’s weight against his neck and wondered if they were finally going to talk about it.

About who Dean was.

About who Sam was.

And what happened to Raphael. 

Dean really hoped there would be pie at this diner. And also why was the  _ Trickster  _ there. It almost sounded like a bad joke: the devil, an archangel and a trickster walked into a diner. Did he want to know what the punchline would be? Did he want to go into this alone, powerless and human?

Yes. Anyday, he would go as Dean.

Because honestly, who was left that really even cared about who he was, who would even want to see that person that he had been. A whole host to follow him, but none that really knew him. Even know, Dean only knew that Cas would stand at his side no matter what. The angel having said as much. Who had gone out and investigated rumors about the location of one of the four horsemen for him, and said he would meet him there.

He saw the hotel and honked to let the tourist know, before heading off to the diner. Why would the trickster be hanging out with Sam or did he know that Sam was Lucifer? The trickster who hadn’t died, who could apparently make the same day repeated over and over again.

“Hello Dean.” 

Dean swore as he nearly swerved off the road again, turning to Castiel who just appeared in the passenger side.

“A little warning next time, Cas.”

“My apologies, Dean.” 

“It’s all good.” Dean couldn’t help but smile at the angel. The only one he told about the amulet on his neck and what it meant. He could still feel a flicker of something from the mark Castiel had left on his arm. He wondered if it would disappear if he ever restored himself. A part of him hoped it would stay. Though he didn’t know why.

Still, why would Sam get drunk with the Trickster. Especially if he had made him watch Dean die over and over again. Was rewinding time even within a Trickster’s power? Could the trickster be something more? The more he thought about it, the more he remembered that faint beat of familiarity the trickster had given off. As if he almost remind Dean of someone else.

“I’ve got a question, Cas.” 

“Yes, Dean.” 

“Can an angel rewind time?” Dean asked as he turned down the street leading to the diner.

“It would take immense power. And there would be consequences for going to the past.” Castiel was staring intently at Dean. “Unless you were an archangel. It’s within their power easily.”

A powerful trickster.

Dean thought about it, about past him and his memories. A tale of four brothers. One who fell, one who died, one who ran and one who stayed. Only one of those were unaccounted for. 

One who ran. 

What had Gabriel been up to? 

Dean could remember past him younger sibling, watching as he chuckled as he manipulated the passage of genetic traits over time. Until a new animal took shape from the appearance of chance. With an odd bill, a beaver’s tail, poison spurs. Gabriel had laughed and cooed over his creations. 

That was a very long time ago. 

“Hey, go got Angel radar right, Cas?” Dean asked as they pulled into the diner parking lot.

“I wouldn’t call it that, Dean.”

“Can you use it to tell if there might be anyone trying to hide what they are?” Castiel paused for a moment. Eyes closed as he put a hand against his temple.

“It is challenging to tell. There might be something.”

“Good enough for me.” Dean stepped out of the Impala. Cas appearing at his side a second later. 

“Dean?”

“I think I know who that trickster is.” Dean grinned. Had Gabriel and Lucifer reconciled? Hope flared in his chest. If it was possible then perhaps Sam wouldn’t be so opposed to Dean’s past life. 

Regardless, Dean would get his answers.

There was perhaps more than one brother waiting for him. He opened the doors, and saw the two of them. He looked at the trickster and the way the trickster looked at Sam. Still, he couldn’t help but feel the surprise that he was right. The two were sitting close, and Sam wasn’t acted all that guarded.

“Gabriel.”

_ His _ brother, but not Dean’s brother. Dean should have connected the dots sooner. 

“Yo, Dean-o.” Gabriel face at first a grin, but then his word registered. Both him and Sam looked at him. “How’d you figure it out?”

“Dean.” Castiel appeared at his side a second later. 

“Did baby angel tell you?” Gabriel asked glaring at Castiel.

Cas did tell him and Dean could have left it at that. He could just keep pretending he never was anyone but Dean.

“I confirmed his suspicion.” Cas spoke as they sat down on the table. Cas sliding down next to Dean, so close that their legs were touching. Dean didn’t reminded him about personal space. It was a lost cause by now.

“Cas.” Dean really should have thought what he was going to say on the way here, but he was distracted by the gay couple and the Bentley. 

“Did you tell any of your fraternity buddies?” Gabriel started grinning again but his eyes held daggers. Dean was a little worried what the trickster, or little brother number two, would do.

“No.”

“Look, this is important, Dean.” Sam interrupted sounding miraculously more sober than he was on the phone. Dean couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that he missed Drunk Sam. “We can stop Armageddon. Gabriel said he would help.”

“I didn’t-“

Sam glared at him and Gabriel glupped. Which, if Dean didn’t think the other knew who Sam, would have clued him in.

“Fine. I’ll help.” Gabriel folded his arms, with a disgruntled pout. “But I don’t want to fight anyone.”

“Too scared to face your big brothers.” Dean couldn’t help ribbing, aware that neither had figured it out yet. Did he want them to know?

He placed a hand against the amulet on his neck. The whisper of its promise echoed in his ears.

“Say,” Dean started his own though thudding in his ears. He could feel the intense look that Cas was sending him. He could almost hear the angel’s thoughts. ‘ _ Tell them.’ _ He took a deep breath. 

“What do you think of that dick Michael anyway?” Dean totally thought past him was a bit of a dick. He could insult himself. “Think he’ll want to play ball or stop this whole shebagian?”

Sam gave him an ‘are you crazy look?’

“Ha. That drama queen?” Gabriel’s smile was malicious. “He’ll fill Daddy’s perfect plan to the T. Probably aggigated that the first Armageddidn’t.”

“Have you talked to him?” Cas asked with all the subtlety of a dog chasing a squirrel, which was none.

“No, but I know him.” Gabriel snorted. “The obedient son.”

“You’ve been gone for two thousand years. Are you sure?” Cas continues, Dean’s staunch supporter. Dean elbowed him, but he was looking at Sam and not Gabriel. Sam’s expression was carefully blank and his thoughts must be thousands of years away.

“Sam?” 

“Dean, there’s something you should know.” Sam spoke quickly but wasn’t looking at him. Head down, his expression twist and hesitant, it was almost the same look he gave him before he told him he was leaving.

“Is it about Lucifer?” Dean shamelessly interrupted, unable to help the smile.

Sam stared at him, eyes wide and completely stun. Look at them he pulled the wool over the devil. One perk about his brother being who he was, Dean could make all the devil puns, it was still his job as older sibling to shameless tease his younger one. 

“I know.”

“How long?” Sam asked. Dean could almost feel something from his brother. Cas bristled next to him and the pressure in the diner increased. A few of the other patrons wrapped up their meals and left. Feeling unease but not knowing the reason.

“Since Lilith.”

“And you never said anything!” Sam learned forward across the table. He could particularly feel the anger radiating from his brother. Dean merely reached across the table and stole the rest of his brother’s pie.

“I wanted to wait till you were ready.” Dean stabbed the fork into the apple pie and plopped the rest of it into his mouth. Gabriel was right. “This is some damn good pie.”

“And you’re just cool with it?!”

“No matter what. You’re still my little brother.” Dean reached across the table and ruffled Sam’s hair. He looked like an angry puppy, with his nose all furled up.

“Dean.” Sam looked like he wanted to hug him. Dean was glad there was a table in between them. He didn’t do that touchy feely stuff. 

“Aw. I’m suffering in the tide of brotherly love.” Gabriel cooed over them.

“You should tell them.” Cas put a hand on Dean’s arm. Right over the one he left when he dragged him out of hell. It sent a shiver down his spine. Dean couldn’t even be mad at Cas.

“Tell us what Deanie boy?” Gabriel put a hand under his chin, and blinked his eyelashes at him severely times. “Did you and Cassie tie the knot?”

Sam snorted.

“No!” Dean shook off Cas’ hand though he immediately missed the contact. He ignored the hurt look in Cas’s eyes. 

“Dean?” Great, now Sam sounded concern.

“It’s easier to show you.” Dean pulled out the amulet from around his neck, and tossed it across the table, “here catch.”

“Dean. I gave this to you. I know what it is.” Sam was looking at him not the amulet.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch Sammie. Just give me a sec. I can call it to the surface. Gabbie you should probably pay attention too.” 

“Gabbie?” The archangel looked appalled.

Dean just focused on the amulet. He could almost hear it pulse ‘ _ now?’ _

It was him this time that thought  _ not yet  _ to it. 

“This is Michael’s Grace.” Gabriel’s eyes glittered with rage. “Why do you have Michael’s grace?”

Castiel put a hand over his, in slight comfort and approval. Cas had barely manage to keep it a secret from Sam in the first place. It went against his blunt nature.

“Dean.” Sam’s own face was expressionless. 

“As kids, the only time I ever disobey Dad was for you.”

“You went to Hell.” Sam stated, each word slow as his eyes widened. It gave Dean hope. “And you’re still Dean. You haven’t claimed it yet.”

“I thought you might prefer human Dean over past me. Just like you prefer being human Sam over past you.”

“Ugh.” Gabriel smacked his forehead. “This isn’t going at all like I thought it would.”

“You went there for me.” Sam continues their previous conversations ignoring Gabriel. His hands still around the amulet. “And you had me hold onto this for you. Did you know? The whole time? When did you figure it out? How did you even remember when you’re still separated from your grace?”

“The memories were mostly dreams.” Dean started and it felt like a weight was coming over his chest. “Which I thought we’re total shit and didn’t believer for a moment. It started oh say around five-six years ago. For whatever reason, the amulet sung and I started to remember. I had  _ no  _ idea what was going, or what really happened.” 

“What about Raphael?” Gabriel interrupted, all glittering rage. It didn’t matter how long it had been, none of them were over that lost. He hoped their Parent would bring him back, but They didn’t. “He  _ died  _ in your war. Our younger brother is  _ gone. _ ”

“That happened?” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “I thought it was something meant...another trick.”

“You didn’t kill him?” Gabriel had thought he died in the battle. 

“No.” Sam shook his head, radiating anguish. “I thought it was a trick to make me believe-”

“He didn’t like fighting.” Dean added slowly, glancing between Sam and Gabriel. “I took him off the battle lines. I felt him die at the end,  _ long _ after Dad locked you in the cage. I thought it was one of the Fallen who killed him in revenge.”

“I know that I failed him.” Dean glanced down. Cas was still holding his hand. “That past me had failed all three of my younger siblings. He died and it’s my fault. This whole mess of world ending is all my fault. I could have tried to stop it earlier.”

“Dean.” Sam’s voice hitched and his finger tightened around the necklace.

“We’ll stop this whole sebagian.” Dean continued, ignoring the three started looks sent his way. “But I’m planning on remaining human for it.”

“If the archangel Michael doesn’t appear it will be easier to stop our forces.” Castiel supplied after a moment. They had already had this discussion. Dean had just failed to mention that he was planning on staying human afterwards. Given that he had already died once as a human, he knew exactly what was waiting for him. It would be better this way. 

“Don’t you hate Micheal’s guts?” Dean asked Sam, a self-depreciating smile on his face. But Sam didn’t return the smile. His fingers were clenched around the chain of the necklace, eyes darting between Dean and the amulet. The amulet itself was glowing and pulsing  _ ‘Now? Now? Now?’  _ It was all Dean could do to mentally tell it not yet.

“Say we’re able to pull this rabbit out of the hat, what about after?” Gabriel eyed him suspiciously. 

“I can just stay human.”

“No.” Sam’s voice was cold and Dean could almost feel ice surrounding him. “You’ll die. Maybe this won’t kill you but you’ll die if you stay human.”

“Dieing is not so bad.” Dean grinned but he could still hear the echo of the screams. If he closed his he could still feel the flash of terror and the taste of desperation. What had he done there?

The horror of turned the taste of apple sweetness to lead in his mouth. 

“I have watched you die for more Tuesday’s then I care to count,” at Sam’s words Gabriel sank back in the booth, “I have spent a year living without Dean as Sam and thousands trapped, knowing that I had lost one brother for good.”

“Sam this isn’t your choice-“

“I’m not going to lose a second.” Sam focused on the amulet.  _ Now. Now. Now.  _ It pulsed, then it started to shattered in Sam’s palm. In that Sam second, Sam launched out from his side, straight for Dean and put the fragmenting container in Dean’s open mouth.

It shattered completely.

Grace flood through him. Swirling him in a tsunami of power that had always been his, washing over him and stealing everything that was human and making it something more. Even his dream self, even past him began to merge more fully with human Dean. Everything was at once too much and eternal. Wings grew from his back, all six of them, tearing at the base of his spin. As Dean became something more than just Dean.

He hadn’t wanted this.

Even as the energy tired to consume him, he felt the embrace of another. Cas. Castiel gripping him tight, comforting him against the backlash of what he had been. 

By the time it was all over, there was a hole in the roof. 

Dean, who was also Michael, blinked a few times. Then turned his gaze to Sam. Sam who had his arms folded and didn’t look the least bit dependent for all that there was hesitation in his eyes. He could still feel Cas clinging to him. Against his own accord, his one set of his wings wrapped around the other angel. The others brushed against Sam and Gabriel, longing for the comfort. 

For one brief moment, he could feel his grace wrap around both of his remaining brother’s. Soothing the gaping emptiness that had lasted eons. 

Dean paused in their embrace and just let himself feel. Feel every blade of grass, every breath of wind, every star song.

He even remembered what Raphael had once said about the stars. They loved a good bit of gossip. As their light washed over him, he could hear dozens of the nearest stars all sing out a name.

But it wasn’t his.

“We misses you, Raphael.” Echoed from Alpha Centauri. 

Dean’s eyes snapped open. His shock gaze meeting that of Sam and Gabriel. 

Together the three of them listened to Alpha Centauri. The star sung the name again.

“Raphael.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t take full credit for Gabriel and the platypus. I was inspired by a small comic strip that I saw but forgot who made it. So who you are, thank you it was great.


	8. The Search Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An phone call between a duke and a commander on different sides or on one side? Beelzebub didn't know. Regardless, they needed to clear the field first. Especially when this new variable entered. An archangel that was supposed to be dead. The one of healing. It made him a little concern that his contact with above might have a change of heart.
> 
> Meanwhile, Crowley, Aziraphale and Adam hear a name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beelzebub makes an appearance! Also Good omens Gabriel is not Supernatural Gabriel, but stole his name. Please let me know what you think.

******Present Time**

Beelzebub was a demon duke of simple purpose. Sure, there had been a few setbacks, but this time, this time everything would go perfectly. The three trouble makers were safely sequester away in England, unaware of what was going on across the globe. As long as no one distrubed them, then there was no reason for that little smug kid to get involved. 

“Is your side sset?” They buzzed on the phone to Gadriel or Gabriel, they never did get their name right. Regardless, they both wanted the same thing. Both wanted the end to begin, and finally have their fight after waiting thousands of years for the time to be right.

“Um…” The angel replied. “About that. There seems to be a minor hiccup.” 

“What iss it?” 

“It’s the stars.”

“Are they not right?” The stars should be right. Everything was placed, all cosmic signs should indicate that it was time. Past time. This was the second take. Verison two, and they had taken the menaces into account. Both parties deciding it best to leave them alone. Alone because they weren’t sure how to destroy them and feared that their two agents had become something more, something else. Something entirely foreign. It was best not to push. 

Alone, they will be left. Even when the fighting began, both agreed to try to avoid that one little area. Avoid it, and they won’t know to stop them.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that they _are._ ” 

“What is it?”

“They’re all talking about _Raphael._ ” The angel sneered. “Everyone knows he is _dead_.”

“What does that have to do with anything? Everything is written.”

“This was not. And he is above me. If he comes back it could ruin my authority. Authority that the General left for me.” 

“Will it interfere with our planss?” Beelzebub felt mostly put off. 

“It could. Y’know,” The angel drawled. “Perhaps we should handle all interferences first.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Instead of getting everyone all riled up again for a start date. Why don’t we remove the nuisances?”

“Including the Boy?”

“Including the Boy. He should be just a boy now. He denied his parentage.”

“He altered reality.”

“To become a mere human.”

“What about our former field agents?”

“An archangel blade can kill anything. We just need to find one.”

“You don’t have one?”

“There’s an issue with a technicality of my receiving of one.”

“You were never Gabriel.” Beelzebub couldn’t remember everything from before the fall, but they remembered the Four. 

“Regardless of who I am or not, how are things on your end? Is your superior in position?”

Beelzebub knew that Lucifer was out of the cage. Free at last, like he should have been years ago, but what were a few years compared to the centuries of waiting they’ve done. Though Hastur had yet to report the showering of omens and signs that should beget the end times. His superior was being suspiciously quiet, which was unlike him. 

“He is not here.” Beelzebub answered, trying not to feel a flicker of concern. Everything was getting in position. This time they will be successful. This time everything will end, and they can finally have their fight. Still, in the back of their head, they remembered what the Boy had said. If they finally had their fight what next? Their side would win of course. Though the more Beelzebub talked to not-Gabriel, the more he felt like their side was something else entirely. 

Still, there would be a war. There must be a war.

“What of your General?” Beelzebub inquired. Their leaders must be in position, but did that really matter.

“Also not here.” There was an odd pause. “You don’t think…”

“If they had fought, everyone would know.” Beelzebub shrugged. Just the fight between the two archangels would have leveled a small country. A pity if they missed it. “We do not need them at the moment. Instead, we should determine what we shall due about any nuisances.”

“We need to clear the playing field first.” Not-Gabriel answered, Beelzebub could easily imagine the grin on the angel’s face. “I’ll send a few of my agents to scout them, if you send a few of yours.”

“Yess.” Beelzebub buzzed, then he disconnected the call.

“Hastur,” Beelzebub called out in the dingy halls. Hastur appeared a moment later.

“Yes, Lord Beelzebub.”

“You are required to scout on Earth.”

“At once.”

“Find the traitor. Take a lower demon as a guide.” Then Beelzebub smiled. “The one who calls himself king of the crossroad. I think his name was also Crowley.”

* * *

Crowley, Aziraphale and Adam were enjoying a nice cup of tea in the town over from the diner. The stars were bright in the little town’s sky. 

“There’s Alpha Centauri.” Crowley pointed out to Adam. Dog happily dozing beneath the table, having already ate his own slice. Aziraphale was still eating his little slice of apple pie. Crowley enjoyed eating with the angel, but he savored every single bit. He has seen snails eat faster than the angel. 

“Can we hear them from here?” Adam asked, sipping on his own tea, which contained a ‘sensible’ amount of honey. 

“Well, we should be able to.” Crowley tilted his head back, and listened, knowing that the other two were as well. 

“ _We miss you, Raphael.”_ The words of the star song washed over them, fainter and more distant than it was. 

“That’s odd.” Crowley looked between Adam and Aziraphale. “Didn’t he die? Did he go visit after us?”

Aziraphale was looking at Crowley, his mouth adorable agap.The stars kept singing Raphael in the background. He had forgotten what a bunch of gossips they were, with nothing better to do than to watch and to shine their star song. 

“Who is Raphael?” Adam merely sipped his tea, not caring in the slightest. Though he was glancing between them, eyes curious. “Doesn’t it take four years for their light to reach earth?”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Crowley blinked.

“I did write a report on them.” Adam grinned at Crowley. 

Aziraphale was still staring at Crowley. His mouth opening and closing, but nothing coming out. Then he took one deep breath and a shaky sip of his tea, clearly trying to regain composure. 

“Crowley, what did you say about your past?”

“Eh,” Crowley glanced at Aziraphale, his ears still echoing with the stars words. “What has that got to do with anything?”

“Adam,” Aziraphale sighed. “When did we go to Alpha Centauri?”

“Four years ago.”

“No.” Crowley shook his head, drawing out the word. It couldn’t be. “No, no, no.” 

“Crowley-”

“Angel, you are mistaken. I would remember if I was _him._ ”

“But how do you know-”

“I was no one important.” Crowley insisted, ignoring the part of him that felt like it had been torn out. The giant hole, knowing he had lost something more than his memories. He had been heading downwards, sure, what with his constant questions. But he had still fallen. She had been there, one last shimmer of bliss and warmth, before everything had been torn from him. 

“What do you remember?” Aziraphale asked. He had never really asked before. 

“Pain, Angel.” Crowley answered simply, feeling irritated. “Look, I am not Raphael.”

“Pardon me,” Adam placed his tea cup down. “But who exactly is Raphael?”

“Raphael _was_ an archangel.” Crowley replied. “And he died in the First War-”

“The war of Lucifer’s rebellion,” Aziraphale clarified, at Adam’s puzzled look. 

“I am a demon. Thus Raphael can’t be me.” Crowley, leaned back arms crossed. The last words were half a hiss. 

“I don’t really think of you as a demon.” Adam smiled, interrupting Crowley’s hiss. “Nor you an angel.”

“Then what are we, Adam?” Aziraphale looked appalled, but his tone held a little steel. 

“My fairly odd parents.” Adam snickered. Crowley had heard the joke before when Adam was hanging out with the Them. “You don’t work for heaven or hell anymore anyway. So you belong with me, with humanity, on Earth.” 

Now Aziraphale was smiling at the boy, completely won over. They both did love Earth. Honestly, Crowley wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

“Why don’t we continue our tour?” Adam asked. “We can always go back to Alpha Centauri and asked them who they were talking about.”

"Let's go to Pando, next!" Adam pulled out the map from his pocket. "It's in Utah." 

"That's a lovely idea." Aziraphale smiled at Adam, but Crowley could feel the weight of the angel's gaze. He hated it when he worried Aziraphale. It made him remember their fight over holy water. How they didn't speak for years afterwards. He didn’t want to talk about the past, but he didn't want to fight with his angel again. Still, he didn't recall anything sustainable. Only bits of everything that he lost and the remnants of his gift that he still held. Crowley could heal. He knew this, but Aziraphale did not. He didn’t know what it meant, if he really was once the archangel Raphael. 

A part of him remembered the warmth, recalled what it was like to feel love. He remembered older brothers, and their laughter. He remembered asking questions to Her first, then to the second elder brother. 

There was so much he forgotten.

But he remembered them. Vague impressions, like looking at an image through a lake in the middle of a night. Distorted. Would he even recognized them if he saw them again? Did it matter?

His past didn’t matter as much. Not the one that didn’t include Aziraphale. Living in that cottage in Tadfield with Aziraphale and his plants. Occasionally, popping over with Aziraphale to different cities and eating at restaurants with the best food or convincing the angel to go to a rock concert with him. 

As long as the world wasn’t ending, he was happy with his life.

He denied that he missed brothers he couldn’t fully recall.

  



	9. A Boy and His Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam reflects on his brothers and the stars.

“Raphael.” 

Sam could hear the stars singing. The stars always did love Raphael the best. The way he cooed over them, was the same way he had seen gardners nurse a beloved plant to full bloom. He recalled soothing out ruffled feathers, that contained the dust of galaxies like gardners always had a thin layer of dirt on them.

Sweet caring Raphael.

Who only ever came to him with questions. The only thing he ever dared to ask, always curious, always wanting to know. 

Why? 

For one moment, he wanted to just unleash his gracefully, to search for their lost brother. Raphael must be alive. The stars could not lie. Though they weren’t always right. But still, why speak after all this time.

“He’s alive?” Gabriel asked the question they all were thinking. His own gaze straight to the sky as the stars sung _Raphael_ , _Raphael_ , _Raphael_. 

Sam wanted to shout back at them where, but he could only remember that talking with stars took a long time and a lot of patience. Though his sense of time from back them was heavily skewed. Things like years and days weren’t even a word yet. Rotations of planets, the movements of the sun, all beautiful, all wonderful creations. Then humanity had come. Past him had only saw a blemish, imperfection. And he was told to love them.

Lucifer hadn’t been shy in sharing his concerns.

Raphael was the only one who really listened. Always patient. In return he would ask his own questions. Why heal when none were ever harmed?

To him then, it meant someone would become hurt, that discord would sow. Lucifer had wanted to know, to understand. Was there some plan? He had never really questioned why before. 

Looking at Raphael, completely dejected over a useless gift, he began to search for answers. He shared the results. Shared everything he knew. In the end, it didn't matter much. It seemed like everything he did was written on a plan he couldn’t escape. 

Raphael died.

“Did the Almighty bring him back?” Castiel spoke, breaking Sam’s musing from his distorted past. Sam took a moment to consider. He didn’t want to be Lucifer. Didn’t want to be the devil. But he couldn’t help but feel the love he held for his brothers.

“Pfft.” Gabriel blew out air. “Dad doesn’t _care_. Why would He act now?”

The words were so bitter, so broken that they struck Sam in the heart. What had happened to the mischievous justice loving brother? 2,000 years of being alone on this planet. Just waiting for the end to come.

“To bad we can’t just ask.” Dean shook his head. His grace still fluctuating around the four of them. Sam could feel it brush up against his own, all warmth and concern. Dean was probably still a little pissed that Sam took away his decision. He didn’t regret what he did. Not when all he could think about was watching Dean die over and over and realizing what loving someone who was mortal meant.

Dean was also Michael. His brother twice over. His brother who had chosen _him_. Why had Michael decided to be mortal, to pick someone who meant he could be Sam’s brother all over again?

It clicked.

All of the sudden, it clicked.

Sam wanted to laugh, to rage, to cry. Maybe this was a second chance but it certainly wasn’t by his Parent’s doing. He refused to believe it, especially after everything They had done. 

“You don’t think it’s Raphael?” Castiel stared at Gabriel. 

“I think it’s a Trick.” Gabriel glanced between Dean and Sam. 

“And you would know?” Castiel retorted.

“Trickster.” Gabriel made jazz hands at Castiel. Sam caught Dean rolling his eyes, the two of them shared a look. For all that Gabriel seemed nonchalant, bits of his grace skittishly brushed up against them. Hurt.

It was all Sam could do to control his own grace. To stop it from seeking out that of his brothers. He didn’t want to draw any attention. But with the way Dean’s-Michael’s- grace was flickering like crazy there wasn’t much hope in that.

“We’ve been noticed.” Castiel glanced up.

“Ready for a coming out party boys?” Gabriel half sung. Sam could feel wings brushed up against him, he placed a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder.

A beat of wings.

The scenery passed. From the grungy parking lot outside the dinner to a small park, complete with benches and the hint of pine needles. Even from here, Sam could still hear the faint echo of the star song.

“You ran away.” Sam accused.

“At least I took you with met. Didn’t think you were prepared for a Hello Lucy showdown.” 

Sam snickered. It was a terrible joke. 

“I still can’t believe that it was _you_ who woke up Michael.” Gabriel muttered, staring at the stars. “You just shoved his grace right in his face. I thought the two of you were going to have a final showdown.”

“Even after meeting me again.”

“Especially after meeting you again. I thought Michael would be gun-ho on ending everything, following Daddy’s little plan to a prefect T, even after that hiccup from take 1.”

“What exactly happened then?” Sam couldn’t help but remember the Kid. The one who threatened and questioned him. The one who was apparently his kid, but not his kid. Sam was still trying to wrap his head around it.

“Most everyone forgot. But man, did you miss a show. That Kid was after my own heart. I mean Altanis rising, replacing nuclear reactors with sherbert lemons. He’s probably my favorite nephew ever.”

“I’m your only nephew.” A young voice called out from behind them. Sam turned on his foot and saw the Boy. Standing under one of the park’s street lamps, illuminated by artificial light. He held the leash to a small dog. One that felt oddly familiar to him.

Sam jumped.

Gabriel gave out a small shriek.

The Boy merely chuckled, bending down to pick up the Dog.

“Is that-” Sam stared at the dog, it had one floopy ear. “-a hell hound?”

“No, it’s Dog.”

“You named a hellhound Dog?” Gabriel voice only held admiration. 

“How are you even _here_?” Sam couldn’t get over staring at the teen as the dog licked his face.

“Well Dog needed to be walked before I went to bed, and I told my uncles I would be fine on my own. Plus I think they needed some _alone_ time.” He glanced behind towards the road. Sam caught sight of a small bed and breakfast. Far nicer than any place he ever stayed at. Sam turned to Gabriel, not really sure what to say.

Gabriel merely stared at the boy.

“Hey, kid-”

“Adam.” Adam filled in. Dog wagged his tail, squirming in Adam’s arms. 

“-do you happen to know-”

“I can’t believe you, douches, left me to greet the angel brigade.” Dean interrupted, appearing besides Sam. His jacket was slightly torn and even Castiel panted hard, a few cuts scattered on his face.

“One sec, Dean.” Sam held up a hand, turning to Adam again, finally finishing his previous statement. “Where Raphael is?”

The boy grinned, a charming boyish grin, but his eyes shimmered in knowing sharp contrast.

“Oh, I might.” 

Then he vanished. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments and kudos. (really they keep me going.). I won't be able to post next week cause of travel. (I'm such a tease. Man, I do love Adam just being like 'Yes, I know'. Then disappearing. Hahah.) Next Time: Dean talks with the people that ought to be his minions. Only to find out, they're not. He picked a terrible sub. And apparently they want a sword he doesn't even know what he did with.


	10. The Angel of Thrusdays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay updated. Life got busy. So I might be a little slower at updating. Also I was inspired by the pocket size husband/snake art that I've seen.

A pamphlet flickered down to the ground in his wake. 

Castiel noticed at as the other three angels stared gobsmack at the disappeared abomination. Who incidentally was Sam’s son. Castiel still didn’t know how he felt about that. In the space of a few months, barely a blink of an eye for him, everything he knew was turned on its head. 

Castiel thought that if he found God, then maybe They could put a stop to this nonsense. The whole end of the world, surely that wasn’t actually the plan. But he had no way of looking, Dean’s amulet had shattered. The broken pieces, tucked away in the pocket of Castiel’s trench coat. No doubt any of the three archangels could snap it back together. But Cas didn’t ask. Didn’t know how any of them felt about him wanting to find their Parent. 

“That little bitch.” Dean scold as he dusted off his shoulder, his clothes repairing themselves in the same motion. 

“Don’t call him that.” Sam protested. The two began to bicker, lightly and like they always had. 

Castiel moved to pick up the pamphlet, as he considered his and Dean’s earlier fight. Apparently Uriel and his ilk weren’t too happy with their refusal to fight. Dean hadn’t wanted to just commanded their obedience either. Hadn’t even revealed he was Michael for all that he was tossed around.

Seeing Dean hurt sent an odd emotion through Castiel, he didn’t quite understand it. Only that he felt that he failed in protecting his charge. His charge that was his superior. Dean didn’t need Castiel’s protection.

Castiel would give it anyway. He could still sense that Dean wore the mark on his shoulder, wore Castiel’s mark. 

It made him feel odd.

Castiel didn’t understand it. He didn’t have time to ask. Not when they were searching for Raphael. Not when those they just fought, were also searching. For all that he had never met Raphael, he knew Dean worried about the missing archangel. 

The Healer. 

Would Raphael’s reappearance be enough to quell the conflict between Heaven, be enough to bring peace? 

Castiel hoped. The death of the archangel was one of the main fighting points for the war. To get vengeance for their fallen leader. Only now, he wasn’t dead. If all four of the brothers band together, maybe, just maybe they could stop it. 

“What’s that angel cakes?” Gabriel invaded his space, grabbing the pamphlet. “Fishlake National Park.”

“It’s in Utah.” Castiel read over Gabriel shoulder, disgusted as the other took a bit out of a large snicker bar that appeared in his hand. 

“Maybe this is a clue.” Sam took the pamphlet from Gabriel. “Have you ever been there?”

“No.” Gabriel tossed the wrapper on the floor. Castiel picked it up. 

“Thousands of years on this planet, thought you’d been everywhere.” Dean snarked.

“Well, I had a life unlike you losers. And I was trying to catch the eye of this babe in India.” 

“I better she was disgusted by your ugly mug.” Dean teased, grabbing the pamphlet from Sam, who immediately protested. “Why the kid leave this anyway? Who cares about some forest in Utah?”

“It happens to house the world’s oldest organisms.” 

“Nerd.” 

Sam made a face. “Jerk.”

The two started bickering againi. 

Castiel couldn’t help but feel grateful that despite everything they still acted like brothers...human brothers. Not like his ilk who would happily rage war and kill each other. All of them warriors. He thought about Anna who had once been human, and couldn’t help but marvel at the change such a short experience had wrought. 

“We should go.” Gabriel broke in. There was something about the weight of his words and the look in his eyes. Castiel recognized it. He knew he had it too.

A desperate hope.

“You think Raphael would be there?” Sam turned away from Dean. 

“We could just teleport there, or did you forget how.”

“We’re taking the Impala.”

“You want to  _ drive. _ ” Gabriel stared at Dean incredulously. Castiel sympathized, driving felt like moving at a snail’s pace.

“I like driving. I can’t just neglect my baby.” 

“We ought to keep under the radar anyway.” Sam nodded, agreeing with Dean. 

Castiel found himself in the back of the car next to Gabriel, on day two of driving. The two sat in stone silence as Dean headed bod to the eye of the tiger. They pulled into a truck stop. Castiel felt exhausted just from sitting there and doing nothing. Along with constantly having to pick up a dozen candy wrappers from the archangel sitting next to him. He suspected the other was doing it on purpose.

“Hey Cass.” Dean asked. “Could you get us some beers and a pie if they have any?”

“Y’know, Deano, that you can just make that yourself.” Gabriel drawled out as he purposefully summoned a coke. 

“Don’t want to. Won’t taste the same. Sam you go with him.”

“I can do it myself.” Castiel huffed. He was learning human customs. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about Sam. About who he really was. Cas didn’t know if he trusted him. 

“I’ll go with you Cas.”

Cas just nodded.

Sam turned to get snacks and Cas considered the liquor. He didn’t know what brand Dean liked and hadn’t expected so many of them. He turned down an aisle of wines and paused.

A man wearing a white suite was considering a bottle of red, while whispering into his shirt.

Cas stared.

It took him a moment, but it was another angel. Buying wine. The other looked up and met Castiel’s gaze.

“Oh don’t mind me.” The angel grinned, blue eyes sparkling, blonde hair shimmering.

“What are you doing here?” Castiel stepped forward. 

“Buying wine. Pity they don’t have anything older, but what do you expect from a service station?” The angel patted at his neck. Castiel caught the movement of a black beneath the collar. 

Castiel stared. “I don’t recognize you.”

“No worries. I’ll be out of here soon enough.” The angel kept one hand at his neck, the other held the bottle of red wine.

“Everything okay, Cas?” Sam appeared just behind him.

Castiel swore he heard something hissed. The angel took a step back. 

“He’s an angel, Sam.”

“Principality.” The angel huffed. “Not like that matters. I’m retired.” 

“You retired from being an angel?” Sam said slowly, as he pulled out a knife.

“Yes.” The angel nodded. Castiel focused on the angel, and the energy around the room. For all that the angel was emitting an aura there was something else, almost as if he was trying to hide something.

“You’ve a demon with you.” Castiel accused. Worried that the two forces were now working together, to bring about the end. 

A small black snake raised its head from the angel’s collared and hissed.

“I thought you were hiding, dear.” 

The snake hissed again.

“We’re just having a simple conversation. You don’t need to worry.” The angel patted the snake’s head. “He’s not really much of a demon.”

“He’s a snake.” Sam was staring at the demon, his brow furrowed in befuzzlement. Demons rarely took the form of an animal. There was only one that ever took the form of a serpent. The fact that he was paired with a principality was odd. The two must have met in the garden. 

“He’s the Serpent, Sam.” Castiel wondered if Sam had forgotten or simply not known while he was trapped in the cage.

The demon hissed, before curling around the angel’s neck. Castiel couldn’t help but feel confused. Even if the two forces had align to bring about the end. He didn’t think an angel or a demon would ever be that comfortable being close to each other.

“Why are you here?” Castiel repeated.

“If you must know, we are just getting a few snacks.” The angel held his bottle closer to himself.

“Wine?” Sam was staring at the angel and the demon. 

“Why does the Devil not drink?” The angel grinned, his features particularly cherubic. 

“How did you know that?” Sam spoke quickly. Castiel could particularly feel his grace tense next to him. 

“I told him.” The snake hissed, then hid in the angel’s shirt.

Sam stepped closer to the two, then spoke firmly. “And how did you know.”

“Just do.” The snake spoke, muffled by the shirt of the angel.

“If you don’t mind. We’ll just be on our way.” The angel stepped back. “I think Adam is done filling the Bentley with petrol.” 

“Bentley?” Dean appeared next to Cas, standing just behind him, as if to watch his back. “Wait. I recognized you. You’re that British guy, with the kid and the husband. Where’s your partner?”

“You ran into him before?” Sam turned to Dean. 

“Literally. Though somehow neither car was scratched.” 

The other angel sighed and the snake snickered. The doors opened and the kid that had vanished in the park appeared, dog trailing his steps. Sam's and Dean's focus was completely on the angel and the snake.

“Oh, well, this happened a bit quicker than I expected.” 

“You!” Dean stepped forward. “Where’s Raphael?”

The kid just smile.

* * *

Fergus thought Crowley was the perfect name. Sure, he might have stolen it from whatever being had mentored him in his youth. It was only a decade after he had taken the name did said demon come storming in, pointing a finger at him, shouted at you, then promptly stormed out again. 

Fergus didn’t even get the chance to say hello.

Now he was stuck, king of the cross roads, playing bell hop to Hastur duke of hell. Fergus wanted to sneer. Hastuer was worthy of a demon that crawled out of the fourteen hundreds and from the way that he spoke, longed for those decades.

Fergus on the other hand couldn’t get enough of the modern comforts. He liked earth, liked his job. Sure, maybe he wanted an advancement, but he didn’t want to whole world destroyed. What then? Hell or heaven forever.

It would be boring.

Boredom more than anything else, was hell. He couldn’t think of anything more hellish than standing in a line for all eternity. 

Nevertheless, Fergus lead Hastur around the US. Though in all honesty, he should just go straight to the Winchester. That pair of hunters were always easy to find what with their contrast drama. 

If not he could always pay their little go to man Bobby a visit. He heard the other couldn’t used his legs. Fergus rubbed his hands together. It was a deal waiting to happen. 

A short phone call later and Fergus had their location, along with a promise to visit Bobby. Secretly, he was hoping that the wonder boys would be able to deal with Hastur and Fergus could just go back to what he was doing. It would neatly solved his problem. 

They popped out of the ground at a truck stop.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal thought is that Crowley can shift into a snake whenever he wants. Such as when he's trying to avoid confrontation with potential siblings he can't quite recall.


	11. A Single Shot

Crowley bluntly ignored the fact that they seem almost familiar like a name at the tip of his tongue, like a face from a half forgotten dream. But beyond their presence and odd mixtures them screamed holy and hidden all at the same time, he sensed another.

“Where is he?” The oldest was stepping closer to Adam, all righteous fury. The other angel moving to cover his back, in perfect sync. 

“There are plenty of he’s. You’ll have to be more specific than that. Why Dog,” Adam bent down and patted his canine, “is a he.”

The other two had brought in their own graces right within themselves, but he could feel the weight of a new presence. Even the Devil’s own was tuck tight barely distinguishable, but Crowley would know the icy touch of that grace anywhere. It had permeated all throughout his former HQ for all that it was caged on the lowest level. 

“You know what I mean.” The other half snarled. 

“No.” Adam kept his pleasant smile. It reminded him of Aziraphale’s, the one he put on as he politely kicked people out of the bookshop. Sometimes, Crowley thought, Adam picked up their best traits.

“Alright kiddo,” A fourth figured just appeared behind the other three, silent and short. For all that he was munching on a snicker, Crowley caught a glint in those eyes. A hawk looking for prey. A brief image of hundred upon hundreds of honey golden eyes flashed in his mind, peering down at him from wings of gold and stardust. He sank a little in Aziraphale’s suit, doing his very best to seem as nothing more than an oddly coiled black necklace.

“I applaud, your style,” the honey haired angel mocked clapped, “I really do. But we’re just looking for our family-“

“Why?” Adam asked, pausing to consider the small basket of apples at the end of the wine isle.

“What?” The four visible deflated.

“Why now?”

“It has been thousands of years.” Aziraphale placed a hand, scratching Crowley’s chin. Crowley almost let himself calmed down, comforted by Aziraphale just being there after so many centuries of dancing around each other.

“He’s our brother. Even if it’s been thousands of years, he’s still our brother.” Lucifer spoke with more sincerity than Crowley thought possible. He looked like a kicked puppy. Crowley was half tempted to reassure him, forgotten emotions pulling at him.

“Well-“

The door to the gas station opened to a monotone bell that always led to announce and something out of his own invention. 

“Well if it isn’t the Hardy Boys,” a british accent draw in. The tone of it struck Crowley as familiar, though from where he couldn’t recall. All these half familiar faces were starting to bother him.

“And who the hell are you.” The oldest pivoted on his foot and turned his attention to the new demon. 

Just behind him was a face that Crowley knew.

Hastur.

“Well if it isn’t my old friend, Crawley.”

“It’s _Crowley_.” Crowley hissed from the comfort of Aziraphale’s coat. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do, half of his plans when it came to Hastur involved a great deal of running away and setting traps. 

“Wait-” Lucifer turned between the snake and the dark haired demon. “You’re both called Crowley?”

“I picked it first.” Maybe the hiding plan wasn’t really working out for him anyway. Plus both Aziraphale and Adam were with him. Crowley had great faith in the way everything just bent to please Adam. It was why they moved to Tadfield and why they brought him on this trip. They were aware that their former bosses were displeased with him. 

“Never recorded it in the files.” Crowley, the second, drawled as he glanced between them and Hastur.

“Regardless of names,” Hastur approached Aziraphale and himself, ignoring the four not quite strangers, “that time has come for you to pay. Now shifted from that slimy pathetic form and face me.” 

“Is this that bit about demartilization by fire?” Crowley started to climb out of Aziraphale’s coat. Not sure what they had planned. Of the two of them, only Aziraphale was ever trained to be a soldier. 

“You have escaped justice once.” Hastur continued, pulling a pistol out of his pocket. 

“You’re not still mad about that thing with Ligur?” A gun would be unpleasant, but it wasn’t the worst he ever had.

“Is that the Colt?” Lucifer asked, as the two of them subtly moved in front of Aziraphale and Crowley.

“I’ve gotten a modern weapon just for you.”

“He’s one of the Fallen, Dean.” The angel in the trench coat stepped forward.

“Alright. We’ll have it your way.” In one moment, he leapt off of Aziraphale and begun to shift forms, just because he’s dealt with a bullet wound before, didn’t mean that Aziraphale should have to. 

The shadows length and grew, several demons appearing from their depths, launching to attack them. The rack of wine toppled over, glass shattered against the ground as the fruit notes all blended together into a cacophony of scents.

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale pulled him and Adam back, trying to move them towards an exit. The fight built up all around them. Only, Crowley didn’t know how to fight. He knew how to glue quarters to the ground, how to tie up telephone lines or engineer roads for the prefect traffic jam. But this…

This was what he wanted to avoid.

The two brothers moved in sync, their actions almost entirely human, so much so that Crowley wondered if he was wrong about their identities. The angel in the trench coat pulled out a blade, stabbing those demons that got too close. He didn’t know where the fourth angel went. 

But lower demons kept pouring out from the ground, one after another. 

A gunshot went off. 

It echoed in that little store. Louder than any noise Crowley had ever heard before. The chaos of the battle halted. The lower demons frozen in perfect position. Everything was still.

Time had halted.

Across from him, Hauster’s mouth frozen in a gap, a dagger lit with ruby symbols protruding from his chest. Body in mid fall. 

“My dear.” Aziraphale’s voice was in his ear, arms wrapping around him. Crowley glanced down at his own chest. Half surprised to see the growing dark spot against his own black suit. He placed a hand against it. Red coated his finger tips. 

“Crowley.” Aziraphale shifted his grip on him, picking him up with a strength that always surprised him. He could feel the desperate fluttering of his grace, but knew it was useless. His angel couldn’t heal him. Their nature were too much in opposition.

Glancing past Aziraphale, he saw honey gold eyes staring down at him and golden wings began to unfurl. Gabriel the messenger, whose control on reality was only second to one.

“Time to go.” Adam grabbed his and Aziraphale’s shoulders. They vanished from the service station.

Make that second to two. Adam really was growing into his abilities. 

They appeared before a sign that said ‘ _Welcome to Fishlake National Forest. Home to the Trembling Giant.’_

Next to the sign stood Death.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...*glances around* I may have just shot Crowley with the Colt...I couldn't resist this cliff hanger. I was going to add more, but then. This was too perfect. 
> 
> There should be only one or two more chapters. 
> 
> (This'll have a happy ending with the big reunion fluff. I swear. )
> 
> Also thank you for all the kudos and comments. They have really help to fuel me in writing this.


	12. Chapter 12

“You can’t take him.” Aziraphale held Crowley tighter. The fierceness of the words made Crowley’s heart flutter. Crowley, let his head lull against Aziraphale’s chest. The wound throbbed. The metallic scent of blood still lingering in the air. 

“I am not here for him.” Death drawled, then he pointed towards Adam. “We have an appointment Adam.”

“Ah, yes. For the Favor.” Adam gave an abashed grin as he ruffled his hair. “It is Sunday, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Death’ voice was deep, and completely emotionless. 

“But it was just getting good.” Adam whined, at Death. Crowley was still wrapping his head around the easy conversation. What type of favor Adam had asked for. When had he even been on speaking terms with Death anyway?

“Well, I’ll be back in a jiffy. Have fun without me.” Adam, tugged at Dog’s leash, and gave the two a brief wave and a bright grin.

With that, Adam moved to walk in pause with Death and the two vanished from sight. 

Crowley just blinked, still held in Aziraphale’s arms.

“He gets that from you.” Aziraphale huffed, staring at the forest before them, golden leaves fluttering down around them. Then he glanced down at Crowley, “Are you alright, my dear?”

“Yes.” Crowley hopped out of Aziraphale’s arms, patting against his chest. The wound had closed, his own natural ability to heal having resolved it. “It’ll take a miracle to get the blood out of this outfit.”

“There, there.” Aziraphale patted the sleeve of his black suit, the material stitched itself back together and the blood dissipated. “I know someone who could do a miracle or two.” 

“Gun shot wounds are the worse.” Crowley whined, stretching his back. He could still feel the phantom ache. At least the bullet had gone clean through, he didn’t want to ask Aziraphale to dig it out. That one time was enough for both of them. 

Aziraphale made a face.

“What?” Crowley drawled out. He knew that face. It was the face of I want to say something, but I’m refraining from say something, because I don’t think you’ll like it very much. He definitely wouldn’t like what Aziraphale was not saying. 

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale’s face turned sympathetic and he placed a hand on Crowley’s shoulder.

“No.” Crowley knew what Aziraphale was not saying.

“Just give them a chance.”

“No. I’m _not_ who they are searching for.” He wasn’t. He had spent 6,000 years being Crowley. Crowley, who didn’t have any family, save for Aziraphale and Adam. 

Aziraphale gave him one more look, before sighing.

“How would you like a stroll through the forest?” Aziraphale offered an arm to him. “After all, it is one of the stops Adam was most interested in.” 

He took it, lacing his arm through Aziraphale. Crowley was just grateful that Aziraphale dropped the subject. If he were Raphael, then surely he would remember it. The distant memories of Before swirled in his mind. 

In the back of his mind, he could feel a thrum of _something_ in the ground. A call and a promise. Behind the two, a shadow flickered. Neither realized that they had been followed. 

* * *

Gabriel watched and remembered. 

A voice rang out soft and kind in his distant memory. A voice lost to him, and one he never thought he would hear again.

“ _She could stop this if She wanted to. Why let this happen? Why let there be war between us at all_?”

“It is Her will.”

“I don’t understand.” Raphael glanced down. “Why let this happen? Why have of us fight at all?”

“You’re a healer Raphael. Finally, you’ll have a chance to us your gifts.”

He never did. 

Once the battle was done. Raphael was dead. 

His presence gone, like the brightness of star ripped from the sky. The surrounding area collapsed in on itself, over and over again, a great incredible dense spot in the universe. Pulling all the light, all brightness, in its wake. 

Only a black hole remained.

He munched on his candy bar, wondering at the angel with the Serpent wrapped around his neck, like some sort of jewelry. A dark contrast against the white suit the angel wore. Their very natures existing in contrast. There was a thought tugging at him, something he should remember. 

The snake had shifted into a man.

It was all Gabriel could do to breath.

For one moment, he thought he was staring at his lost brother. Remembering when they joked and took on human forms. His hair was darker, short, his face leaner. But there was something achingly familiar about him. 

If he just reached out. He stretched out his grace, trying to grasp the other. He followed them. Stilled when he saw Death, when the other stared directly at him. Even as relief washed over him.

The Colt hadn’t killed the Fallen. They might not have been aware of the weapon, nor what that meant, but Gabriel was. He knew when the gun had been made, knew its capabilities, and hadn’t worried. He watched as the two strolled off, both smiling at each other. Crowley wasn’t just a demon. 

His heart thudded in his chest and it was all he could do to keep his grace wrapped against itself, still hidden underneath his disguise as a trickster deity. 

He couldn’t let him go. Not when he was so close to having his family back, even as he heard the other deny his being his brother. Gabriel didn’t care if he could never have what once was. The existence before all the fighting had begun, where they had just been working on crafting stars and collecting their dust. 

He just wanted his family back. 

Watching the two of them, seeing how happy they were as they exchanged small smiles, and walked as if the world wasn’t falling down around them, Gabriel couldn’t help but wonder. Was it right to bring them into this? When the two had so clearly crafted happiness for themselves? 

He couldn’t help but think back when he first saw Aziraphale, tasted a cake for the first time. If he had just stayed, would he have found some of that peace as well. No matter how found he was of the other pagans, he had never fit in. Not quite. Even in their own mythos, Loki was an outsider. 

A stranger. 

He stared at the two, feet not quite skimming the ground as he followed. Would he be considered a stranger to them as well? Did Crowley even remember being Raphael? Gabriel wanted to unleash his grace, to let it fluttered along his lost brother. He was so close to having them all back.

* * *

Once the dust had settled, or in this case the bits of glass and the stick mess that was spelt alcohol mixed with the sulfuric remains of lower demons, Dean was finally able to take into account his surroundings. The last standing demon twiddled his fingers at him, giving him a slight grin. 

“Well, that was certainly fun, boys.” He bent down and picked up the colt from the fingers of the dead fallen. “Now,” he offered the weapon to them, “I’ve a business proposal for you.” 

Dean took the Colt, turning it every which way. A part of him knew it wouldn’t kill him, the part that was Michael. But what about the red head demon, Crowley, the serpent. Dean only got a glimpse of him in the chaos, in that moment where he was shot. Eyes widened in surprise. There was something familiar about those eyes, something that angel him recognized.

Then he was gone.

Dean didn’t have a chance to sort out what that something was. Only regret as he realized that he could have ended the fight much faster if he had just let loose, but then his presence would shine like a golden beacon. Everyone would know he was here, fighting demons. Without a doubt, those angelic dick bags would jump the gun and assume the war had started. 

“Cas.” Dean turned to the angel and then to the spot where Aziraphale, Crowley and that kid had disappeared from. Castiel nodded and vanished. 

“That gun is rumored to be able to kill anything.” The demon continued. “It may even be able to kill the Devil.”

“Right…” Dean pass the gun to Sam, sharing an amused look. The demon clearly hadn’t recognize Sam or Dean for that matter. 

“Look,” Sam paused.

“Crowley.” The demon, Crowley junior, supplied. 

“Why do you want the Devil dead?”

“What’s in it for you?” Dean added, stepping into Crowley space, while trying to keep his grace locked in against himself. He doubted much could harm his brother at this point, but decades of human habit to protect Sammy came out. 

“I like Earth.” He turned and grabbed a bottle of cheap scotch. “I like the food, I like the alcohol and I like the comforts.” 

Crowley Jr. grabbed one of the souvient shot glasses and poured himself a glass. 

“And killing the Devil is going to help how?” Sam asked. Though the irony of what he was saying didn’t escape Dean. He snorted. 

“No Devil, no big fight. Earth stays the same. It’s what we all want boys.” He spread his arms out, one hand holding the glass. “I’m merely in management.”

Dean and Sam shared a glance at that. Then Sam tilted his head. Dean nodded.

“Alright, Crowley. We have an idea.” Sam started, letting a sliver of his grace out. Dean did the same, watching as the demon shrank back. 

* * *

In the forest of Pando, an apple grew. It didn’t sprout from an apple blossom or even lowered the limb of any apple tree. High up in trees that were traditionally quaking aspen and belong to a single colony unit, the apple clung to single, already dripping with the weight of it. Still the apple grew all the same, a deep crimson red with a splash of green along one surface.

Below leaves of gold, two beings, one demon and one angel, looked up at the apple. Their search for an answer long forgotten almost within their grasp. 

That perfect apple. 

One that held such promise and ancient forgotten power. What did it matter that the stars sung the name of the lost one? When his power was within their grasp and surveyed as the perfect bait. One that would tempt the missing leaders of both fractions. Regardless of where their stood with each other, they would search for the answers of the dead archangel. 

Their brief but frantic search had paid off, with none the wiser. 

One pulled out a sword, beautiful and gleaming with the lick of flames. The other twirled a blade long forgotten and belonging only to the highest of the angels. A blade that meant death to any being, save perhaps Death themselves. 

Both turned to each other. True delight in their eyes. Beelzebub and Gadriel shared a small smile. The promise of a long awaited battle shimmering on the surface. 

Now all they needed to do was wait.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in this time line Supernatural Crowley hadn't actually meet Dean and Sam in person. (I'm primarily basing this off of Season 5, which I had to rewatch lol.) There are probably only two more chapters left. I'm thinking about doing an epilogue as well.


	13. An End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No cliff hanger this time! It's the final chapter, and everyone loves a good battle amongst an ancient forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!!! This is the last chapter. Thank you all so much for your kudos and comments. Honestly, I wouldn't have been able to finish this without the motivation.

Crowley stilled.

He stared across the clearing. Certainty, he admitted to himself the fact that there were demons in the service station should have been a sign. But he had assumed that Haster had found himself a posse to go after him. 

It was nothing. 

“What are the two of you doing here?”

Nothing ever came when Beelzebub and Gabriel teamed up. He ignored the wrongness of that thought that some part of him screamed that that angel  _ wasn’t  _ Gabriel. He couldn’t not be.

Crowley dutiful ignored that part of him, as he had been all day. He didn’t want to place the achingly familiarity as anything more than phantom pain from being  _ shot _ . He hated being shot. Or the insistent nagging in the back of his head as anything more than a headache. He wasn’t being called by something. The forest was merely another forest, ancient perhaps, but nothing more than some quaking aspens. 

“Hello Aziraphale,” Not-Gabriel grinned at them. The reflection of flames dancing across his face. Crowley clenched his fist. That urge to punch the smile off that face hadn’t fade since the last time Crowley had seen Gabriel. When the angel had almost gleeful sentence Aziraphale to die by hellfire.

To burn, as Crowley had burned. Screaming as flames consume the wings on his back twisting them and turning them into something new. He never wanted to see Aziraphale suffer.

“Crowley, it has been too long.” Beelzebub buzzed.

“Never thought I would see the day that the two of you would team up. I expected you to still be wanting to fight each other,” the lie slide easily off his tongue. Crowley had in fact been expecting this. Only, he had hoped it would take them a bit longer. Or at least at a different place. The oddness of forest clouded his senses. 

“Why are you here?” Aziraphale asked, stepping forward. 

“While, I’ll admit that you had caused a delay,” Not-Gabriel grinned. “But we have a war to start.” 

“Only our leaders have gone missing,” Beelzebub continued. 

“Delaying our plans once more.” The smile turned more to a grimace than a smile, all white teeth bared. “But we’ve got a plan. All we need to do cause strife once more. What would anger all the archangels? What would finally make them fight?”

“You’re after Raphael.” Aziraphale took a half step in front of Crowley. 

“You always were a smart one, Aziraphale.” Not-Gabriel twirled the flaming sword, moving forward. “Never much of a fighter, though. Far too  _ soft _ .” He struck out.

Metal rang against metal.

“You’re plan worked, bozo.” Golden wings flared out as a half-familiar grace washed over Crowley. Reassuring a demon. Why would the messenger care about him? Protect him? Maybe he was just saving Aziraphale. Someone who was always worth saving and found himself in no end of trouble. The angel could cause more chaos than Crowley did. 

“What are  _ you _ doing here?” Not-Gabriel pared the sword, sticking out once more only to be blocked. Exchange after exchange. The fires on the sword grew, lashing out. 

“Funny thing,” Gabriel grinned at the other, “what trying to end the world tends to brings out.” 

“Humanity,” Not-Gabriel spat, launching forward. Always ready to fight, a soldier training since day one, wanting the War. A chance to prove himself. “You want to save them in this cesspool of a planet. You’ve never cared about your brothers in the past two thousand years.”

“You think I don’t care about my brothers. When all the two of you want to do is cause them to kill each other.”

Above them, an apple began to sway with the rising wind. 

The blades between the two Gabriels crossed, the sound ringing throughout the forest. Crowley couldn’t focus. That insistent something was louder on the back of his mind, ever since he stepped foot into the woods, it had started to plague him. Just out of grasp, something calling for him. 

“It has been written.” Beelzebub spoke from behind them. 

The cold weight of the sword settled against his throat. The heavy threat of death, if that sword pierced him. He would die. Unless Adam was making another deal with Death. 

“Let him go.” The command shook Crowley, resonated throughout the woods, even the aspens trembled. He knew that voice, knew it in his core. A migraine laced through his head. Distant sharps of memories, a voice gentle and smooth as they coaxed galaxies into existence. Only to hear it now, with the pressure of that anger washing over Crowley.

The sword dropped.

The fighting between the two Gabriels halted, swords crossed.

“My lord.” Beelzebub bowed. “We thought you were indisposed.”

Lucifer stepped forward, his presence almost overwhelming. Stronger than even that of Adam’s. Besides him stood the angel in the cape, and another. 

“What were you dickwads even thinking?” It could only be Michael for all that he seemed human. “Just kill Raphael  _ again _ , before we even found him.” 

“We wouldn’t have to. If our leaders just did what they were supposed to do.” Not-Gabriel growled, hands clenched around the blade. “We have a War to start.” 

“Nah.” Michael shook his head. 

“Stay out of this human.” Not-Gabriel glared.

“You good with this, Sam?” Michael gestured to himself, well more to his neck. 

“Yeah. Guess there’s no denying it now. We are what we are, Dean.” Lucifer, or was it Sam, rubbed the back of his neck. The rapid change from the leader of the legions of hell to sheepish sibling spun Crowley’s head. He knew that hesitant smile.

“But we don’t have to be who we were.” Michael grinned, then a wave of grace washed over them. Pure and holy. The human was Michael. 

Aziraphale made a cute little noise of surprise. 

“Both?” Not-Gabriel dropped the flaming sword, flames sputtering out as it hit the ground. “Both of you just decided you  _ like  _ humanity. You like consuming the filth they called food like raw fish on rice?”

“Sushi is a delight.” Aziraphale muttered, completely appalled. 

“Pie is damn delicious,” Michae agreed. Crowley wanted to smile. The pure ingenuity of the palette of taste tempted more angels than any demon could. He should know. Hell knows he tried with Aziraphale. 

“You abandoned your post. You abandoned  _ us _ . You can’t just appear now to say that the end is off.” Not-Gabriel pulled at his hair, compuse gone. “You left me in charge and never came back.” 

“I couldn’t kill my brother.” 

“And  _ you _ ,” Not-Gabriel swirled to Sam, “what’s your excuse. Everyone expected a way of destruction from you.” 

“I decided I liked humanity.” Sam agreed.

“Forgive me, but you just changed your  _ mind  _ about all of this.” The pure incredulous expression on Beelzebub’s face made Crowley wanted to laugh. Or perhaps that was the relief from not being stabbed.

“Like father like son.” Adam appeared, leaning against a tree, cheshire grin on his face. Crowley had never been proud of his sort of nephew if only for his gift to cause the same expression of disbelieving surprise on every face there. 

“How did your tea with Death go, Adam dear?” Aziraphale dusted off Adam’s shoulder. 

“You are a curious kid, aren’t you?” Gabriel, the real one, picked up the blade that rested at Crowley’s feet. A second later disappeared. The archangel’s eyes weighed on Crowley, expectant. 

“A dead bore.” Adam answered Aziraphale, or perhaps he meant it for Gabriel. 

“You just want us to call everything off  _ again. _ ” Beelzebud’s words buzzed as he spoke. “Do you know what’s it like? Everyone is ready. Our side, their side. Humanity’s time is over.” 

“All that needs to be done is for the two of you to start everything off and fight. What is so worth saving? Sure maybe you like their food, but why do you care so much. Raphael is  _ dead _ . And we found the last vestige of what remains of him. With this. And…” Not-Gabriel gestured upwards, before looking around, “Where did the swords go?”

“Wow. You’re really not good at this are you?” Gabriel waved his fingers at them, standing directly next to Crowley. 

“What do you, doushes, know about Raphael?” Michael demanded. 

“Can’t you feel it?” Beelzebud sneered. 

The humming in the back of his head grew louder. Carrying the song of million voices, over and over, calling to him, calling to whom he had been. Before he was Crawly. Before he had fallen.

“Ah,” Crowley stepped away, tempted to run. 

Fingers laced between his. Crowley’ turned and blue eyes met his, “It is your choice. No matter what.” 

If anything else, Aziraphale was certain of it. Of who he was. In that same certainty, Crowley saw that he didn’t care. Aziraphale who listed a million reasons why they couldn’t be friends in any given year, just let this go. 

“Angel.” 

The earth beneath them trembled.

“It’s too late.” Not-Gabriel eyes glanced upwards.

An apple began to fall. 

The nine of them watched it. A perfect red apple gleamed with the grace of everything that once was the Archangel Raphael. Falling, falling, 

Crowley caught it.

For one moment, he thought Aziraphale was wrong. Nothing happened. 

It contained everything that he had been. All of it ripped into him like a thousand daggers diffing into his flesh. Only to light with liquid fire. It felt like what he always imagine a bath in holy water would feel like. He had no words to scream, not as his very formed was ripped apart to be combined with something new. With something old.

Pain ripped along his back. Wings sprouted as memories, bright and burning, swept through his mind. he flame that pulse through him. 

Through it all, he could still hear Aziraphale crying out his name. Crowley/Raphael fought through the torment to reach out for the other. Grasping Aziraphale’s hand as the only thing that was stable, constant, amidst the chaos in his mind. 

He remembered.

Standing here now, with the light flaring around him, wrapping around him. He knew who he was. Chaos still clouded his mind. The archangel who only ever asked questions in juxtaposition to the demon preferred wine and a bit of mischief. 

“ _ Raphael _ !” 

Golden wings wrapped around him, as he felt the weight of his brother against him. 

“Gabriel.” Crowley wrapped his arms around the other, more to stabilize himself than anything else. His eyes caught those of Lucifer and Michael, both staring at him wide eye.

“You’re alive.” 

The overlapping graces swirled around him, embracing and flickering. His own grace, grace that had been torn from him, expanded out. The essence of the four of them danced along each other, an ancient greeting, sparking along the edge and carrying the star song of their being.

“I’m not the same.” A part of him felt like Raphael, that naive archangel, but he had been Crowley for so long. He  _ liked  _ being Crowley. Crowley fit in perfectly in that odd little town in Tadfield sharing a cottage with his angel and growing his own garden. Sometimes he get into a spot of mischief, particularly when he messed up Aziraphale’s magic shows. 

Raphael had never known Aziraphale. 

“Like we are?” Michael snorted, wings out, as he approached. One hand glittering along one of Raphael’s many wings, checking for loose feathers. Something he had always done for them. 

“You Fell?” The agony those words carried was enough to drown Crowley. He caught Lucifer’s gaze. Pure hurt radiated from those words, mixed with a swirl of anger. Crowleyy didn’t need to ask who the other was angry at. None of them.

“Well,” Crowley attempted a grin, “I asked too many questions. Before I knew it, I had sauntered vaguely downward.”

Aziraphale snorted, for all that he still held Crowley’s hand. Crowley hoped he wouldn’t let go. The thought of facing his brothers  _ alone,  _ especially when they thought he was dead, nearly overwhelmed him. 

“Why would They do that to you? For asking some questions.” Lucifer’s hands tensed, cold sparks of anger danced along his grace. Furious for Crowley, no for Raphael, the brother that they had lost. 

“Somethings are just ineffable.” Great, now he was starting to sound like Aziraphale. Crowley half shrugged, still balancing under the weight of Gabriel, who just wouldn’t let him go. Crowley didn’t have the heart to push him off. No matter how much he denied it, he had  _ missed  _ his brothers. Missed the laughter amongst endless voids, of creating stars and galaxies. Before just spinning everything, letting it loose, just to see what might form. 

“As touching as this all is,” the fourth angel, the one in the trench coat, interrupted, “there is still the matter of Armageddon at hand.” 

“I agree.” Both Not-Gabriel and Beelzebub said, eyeing the archangels with a bit of hesitation as skittish as a pair of deer. “Unless you want to just call the whole thing off. Let the humans go about mucking up this beautiful planet, killing millions of species, polluting the oceans, thawing out the polar ice caps.”

“Oh, don’t act like you care about the oceans. You wanted to boil them and bring out the kraken. You just don’t like humanity.” Aziraphale huffed. 

“Look.” Adam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Does it have to be on Earth?”

“What?” Not-Gabriel turned to him. 

“No one ever said that the final battle has to be on earth. Couldn’t you have it on Andromeda or something?”

“I guess.” Beelzebub spoke slowly.

“Great. Then just leave earth alone and go have your gang fight there.”

Not-Gabriel stared at Adam then at Beelzebub, asking quietly. “What about after?”

“After the War?” The what that Beelzebub stared at Not-Gabriel, almost reminded him of himself and Aziraphale. Almost. He didn’t want to compare himself to Beelzebub with a ten foot pole. Crowley understood proper chaos, Beelzebub wouldn’t know what that was unless it bite him. 

“Nothing. Earth stays out of it.” Adam reaffirmed. 

“Could someone of us stay here and not fight?” Crowley the second, slunk in from the shadows. “I wouldn’t mind helping with administration of hell. If Moose there wants to stay on earth.” 

“Hm.” Not-Gabriel stared at the group. “Beelzebub,” he offered his arm, “would you prefer to discuss this in a more adapt location.” 

“I suppose.” Beelzebub grabbed Not-Gabriel’s arm. The two disappeared a moment later, with the faint swish of wings. 

“Well. Great that those two are gone. But I don’t think the others are going to sit quietly. Can’t just convince everyone that apple pie is delicious and they should leave humanity be.” 

“Actually,” another angel popped up. How did everyone find them? Did they launch a neon sign saying all archangels are currently in Utah? Crowley thought about the flare of power as his grace settled back into himself. Maybe he did.

There would be no denying that they were back. Not for him, nor his brothers. 

“Metatron.” Aziraphale greeted, tone cold. 

“Ah, Aziraphale, still collecting your books and guilty pleasures. What I wouldn’t give to take a peek at your shop.” For all that Metraton’s tone was amicable. Alarm bells were ringing in his head.

“I’m afraid it’s closed.” Aziraphale answered, stiffly. 

“Pity.” Then Metraton turned his attention to Michael and Lucifer. The two of them had placed themselves in front of Crowley, Aziraphale, Adam and Gabriel, arms crossed and grace wrapped protectively around him. 

“There is a way,” Metraton started cautiously, “for all of heaven to truly experience the delights of humanity. All we need is the angel tablet.”

Michael and the angel, Castiel was it, shared a look. “We’ll considered it. Now scram.” 

Metraton vanished. 

Crowley glanced around the clearing, realizing that it was just the seven of them. The other demon, Crowley Jr. He still was disgruntled that someone had stolen his  _ name.  _ Crowleyy had spent centuries trying to figure out what fitted him best. 

“Great,” Michael slung an arm around Crowley’s shoulder, “how about we get some apple pie and I convince you to let me drive your Bentley.”

“Dean.” Lucifer scolded. “At least give us some time before you try and steal his car.”

“Pie, Sammy, and beers.”

“Ah, perhaps some wine. I think I still have that vintage from last time.” Aziraphale smiled as he took a step back as Crowley was complete engulfed in his brother’s grip. Crowley sent him a betrayed look, squished in between Gabriel and Michael. 

“Gabriel. I’m not going to disappear.” Crowley tried to squirm out of their grasp. He thought about changing into a snake, but his grace was still lashing out, wrapping around them, not settled. He didn’t want to end up as some odd winged serpent with six wings. 

“Bro. I’m a trickster. And you being here,” Gabriel held on a little tighter, “still seems like a trick to me. As if you’ll just vanish, or some piano is going to fall out and squash you.” 

Lucifer snorted, the two of them sharing an odd grin. 

“Y’know.” Lucifer spoke slowly, “Ellen makes a mean apple pie and bobby has that twenty year old bottle of scotch. I’m sure they’ll be delighted by our company.” 

“You know, Sam,” Michael grinned just a fiercely, “I think you’re right.”

* * *

Adam watched as the four archangels teased each other, while walking out of the woods. Just behind them Aziraphale and Castiel struck up a conversation, going into the finer points of good cuisine. The ground beneath him still trembled and one leaf fluttered down, swirling past him, to land in a golden patch of sun, right next to a perfect apple. 

Reaching down, he plucked it up, wiping a little of the dirt off. He could still feel the residual energy, for all that his uncle’s grace had left it. Dog nudge his head against his calf, returning for his own romp in the woods. 

“What do you think dog?” He patted Dog’s head.

Dog barked.

“No, I don’t think they’ll be returning to Tadfield either. My town’s a bit sleepy for the trouble that those four are going to get into. Let’s take a walk around the woods. Did you know that I wrote a paper about this place once?”

He felt the change in the pulse of the earth, in his own being, knowing that everything was changing once again. That the dispute between them, Heaven, and Hell hadn’t fully been resolved. He could feel Metraton’s eyes on him as he strolled through the trees, watching and waiting. In the distance, Adam could even knew where an author typed away, working on his book series, publishing more about the adventures of Supernatural. 

One plan reached fruition, another dozen to go. 

Adam smiled as he watched his family, polishing the apple in his grasp. With the sun all a glow around them, in laughter ringing in the air, an odd peace washed over him. Humming, he took a bite of the perfect apple. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I'm 100% satisfied with this ending. So this a chance I might go back and rework some of this in the future. I may also write a prequel that's specific to Crowley and Aziraphale, their relationship, and living in Tadfield. Thank you so much for reading this story! Please let me know what you think! Also thanks to BattleScarredKitsune for letting me bounce ideas around when I was stuck.


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